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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25940743">Oceans Between</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbhorrentSelkie/pseuds/AbhorrentSelkie'>AbhorrentSelkie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Pirate, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Friends, Drunken Kissing, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, FE3H Kinkmeme, Homophobia, Hostage Felix, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kidnapping, M/M, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Dimilix, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pirate Sylvain, Pirates, implied slavery, no beta we die like Glenn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:20:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>35,583</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25940743</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbhorrentSelkie/pseuds/AbhorrentSelkie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Some of them kept their eyes downcast, fixed on the rough planks of the deck. Others peeked up warily at him and his crew, as if their peaceful attitude might shift in an instant. Other still glared openly at Sylvain, like their look might make him keel over where he stood.</p><p>One such pair of eyes was a beautiful amber, set in a slender face of creamy pale skin, stark in contrast to the long, inky blue-black hair that was gathered up in a loose knot at the top of the man’s head. He was, perhaps, just a couple years younger than Sylvain, in his early twenties. His thin pink lips were pressed into a hard line, all contempt and disdain. A pretty little thing.</p><p>And achingly familiar.</p><p>Of course, Sylvain knew when he gave the order to attack The Aegis that she was a Fraldarius ship. But he hadn’t expected to actually find a Fraldarius aboard. It had been years; Sylvain couldn’t have been more than ten the last time he saw the little Fraldarius boy, but there was no doubt in his mind that the whiny, crying child he’d known for a single summer in his youth was now the scowling man being held at sword point while Sylvain robbed his father’s ship. </p><p>Sylvain made a rash decision.<br/>Fill for FE3H Kink Meme</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>281</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompt:</p><p>Sylvain is a pirate and captures Felix. Is Felix a damsel-not-quite-in-distress he intends to ransom off? A pretty naval officer he can't quite bring himself to kill? Who knows, but they end up fucking</p><p>Don't mind any level of consent, but +++ points for sexual tension<br/>_____</p><p>Because I didn't have enough stories to write. I just can't help myself sometimes lol. I love pirate shit, anyway, so whatever.</p><p>I know very little about pirates, so this is going to be a lot more Pirates of the Caribbean than true-to-life pirates. I'm also not going to try and write pirate speech because I'm pretty sure it would be cringy as fuck.</p><p>I originally intended for this to be a one-shot, but I got to about 5000 words and realized it wasn't anywhere close to done, so I broke decided to break it up into chapters. There will be sex, as per the prompt it's just going to be a little while before we get there.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was something about the crisp, salty wind that made the off-white sails billow, the cry of gulls overhead, the light pitch of the ship as the waves batted her back and forth gently as could be that Sylvain found he could never seem to tire of. His crew was raucous with laughter as they crossed back and forth across the gangplank, their newly acquired loot finding its way into the cargo hold that had too long been bare.</p><p>All thanks to a very generous Fraldarius Trading Company ship that had surrendered without a fight, the crew valuing their lives – which they didn’t need to know Sylvain had no interest in taking to begin with – over their cargo. The small crew of the merchant ship, about fifty men in total, sat on their knees in the center of the deck, hands behind their heads with a small group of Sylvain’s crew making sure they stayed put while they were relieved of their goods.</p><p>Sylvain crossed the gangplank himself, joining with First Mate Hilda as she bossed the crew around without lifting a finger to help. They shot light-hearted glares at her as they did as they were told. She grinned up at Sylvain when he came to a stop behind her. “It’s about time we got a good score, huh, Captain?”</p><p>“Absolutely.” It had been over a moon since they’d managed to hit such a lucrative target, and the coffers were certainly beginning to run dry, the men getting restless at the lack of decent pay. “Everyone behaving?”</p><p>“They are,” she reported, sounding delighted. While most crews of merchant ships would rather take the loss of goods rather than the loss of life, some put up a bit of a fight first, and it got a bit tedious at times.</p><p>Sylvain looked out over the crew, putting on his best, most charming smile for them. Some of them kept their eyes downcast, fixed on the rough planks of the deck. Others peeked up warily at him and his crew, as if their peaceful attitude might shift in an instant. Other still glared openly at Sylvain, like their look might make him keel over where he stood.</p><p>One such pair of eyes was a beautiful amber, set in a slender face of creamy pale skin, stark in contrast to the long, inky blue-black hair that was gathered up in a loose knot at the top of the man’s head. He was, perhaps, just a couple years younger than Sylvain, in his early twenties. His thin pink lips were pressed into a hard line, all contempt and disdain. A pretty little thing.</p><p>And achingly familiar.</p><p>Of course, Sylvain knew when he gave the order to attack <em>The Aegis </em>that she was a Fraldarius ship. But he hadn’t expected to actually find a Fraldarius aboard. It had been years; Sylvain couldn’t have been more than ten the last time he saw the little Fraldarius boy, but there was no doubt in his mind that the whiny, crying child he’d known for a single summer in his youth was now the scowling man being held at sword point while Sylvain robbed his father’s ship.</p><p>Sylvain made a rash decision.</p><p>Hilda gave him the all-clear, that they’d taken the loot and were set to go. Sylvain stepped forward to address the merchant crew. “Thanks for being so cooperative with me, gentlemen,” he said graciously. “I know this isn’t a pleasant experience, and I’m glad we were able to resolve it without bloodshed.” The men just stared blankly (or angrily, in some cases). “I must admit, though, I didn’t realize this ship was also toting more… <em>precious </em>cargo.” His eyes fell on the dark haired man, whose eyes went just a hair wider. “Duke Fraldarius’ youngest son.”</p><p>The captain of <em>The Aegis</em> cleared his throat, shifting nervously on his knees. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said, “but you must be mistaken. That’s simply a crewman-”</p><p>Sylvain’s patient smile made the captain’s words falter. “I’m not stupid, but that was a good try.” For his part, the Fraldarius boy didn’t look scared, just angry. “So, here’s what’s going to happen next. My crew and I are going to sail away, and you’re going to sit here until you can no longer see our ship. We’re not cruel, we left you your food and water. You’ll make it back to port just fine.” He smiled down at the dark haired man again. “Well, most of you.”</p><p>“Sir?” Hilda questioned, just as confused as everyone else.</p><p>He ignored her, turning to a brawny blond crewman who, when Sylvain first met him about two years before, thought he was entirely too kind to be a pirate (which, he completely was, but he was a good worker and a good drinking partner). “Raphael, please escort Mr. Fraldarius aboard <em>Lady Ruin</em>.”</p><p>Confused but smiling, not missing a beat, Raphael offered an enthusiastic, “You got it, Captain,” before grabbing the man by the arm and gently urging him to his feet. The Fraldarius boy didn’t resist, didn’t struggle as he was led over the gangplank, away from his crew.</p><p>Sylvain turned his attention to the other captain. “Now, I’m going to trust you with a message to Duke Fraldarius. Tell him that if he wants to see his son alive again, he’s going to bring me fifty thousand gold on the first of the Blue Sea Moon. There’s a small island off Sreng named Katra, are you familiar?”</p><p>“A pirate port,” the captain sputtered, eyes shifting between Sylvain and Felix who watched from the deck of Sylvain’s ship.</p><p>“Exactly. There’s a tavern on Katra, the Whirlpool. My men will meet the Duke’s men there at noon, and if everything looks good, my men will bring them to me. If the Duke pays up, he gets his son back. Easy as can be. Can you pass that message for me?”</p><p>The man swallowed hard. “Yes.”</p><p>“Great.” Sylvain motioned for his men to start retreating back to <em>Lady Ruin</em>. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”</p><p>They crossed back safely. No one said anything about the captain’s bizarre, out-of-character kidnapping until they were well underway, <em>The Aegis </em>shrinking behind them. Hilda sidled up next to him, fixing him with a hard look. “Since when do we take hostages?”</p><p>“Since we find rich kids who we can ransom off for a shit-ton of gold.”</p><p>She didn’t look convinced, but didn’t get the chance to say anything before Raphael joined them, still holding the Fraldarius boy by the arm. “Uh, Captain? What do you want us to with him?”</p><p>Sylvain considered it for a moment. “Get the chains out of the cargo hold and tie him up in my quarters,” he decided. If looks could kill, his crew would very suddenly find itself captained by Hilda. “Gag him if he gets mouthy.”</p><p>“Yes, sir.” Raphael led the dark haired boy away, disappearing below deck.</p><p>Hilda was still staring at him. “What?”</p><p>“Oh, nothing,” she said dismissively. “I was just wishing our captain would think with his brain for a change, instead of his dick.”</p><p>“Oh, shut up.”</p><p> </p><p>~OoO~</p><p> </p><p>Felix’s shoulders were starting to ache. He tried rolling them, but it did little to help, given the fact they were bound behind him around the back of an admittedly quite comfortable chair. His mouth was parched, in no small part due to the piece of cloth that had been tied around his head to gag him when he’d cursed the large, blond man who, for some reason, was trying to talk to him as if he was an old friend. A thick chain secured his torso to the chair, and shackles kept his ankles locked to its sturdy legs.</p><p>Overkill, he thought, but he supposed he wasn’t the kidnapping expert.</p><p>He had nothing better to do than study his new surroundings. A large window took up the majority of the stern wall, overlooking the water that glistened in the afternoon light, its red velvet curtains drawn back and tied with black cord. He could still see <em>The Aegis</em> in the distance, bobbing in the water as they waited, carrying out the captains’s order to remain in place until they were completely out of sight.</p><p>The chair Felix was bound to sat opposite of an impressive oak desk, its polished surface covered with maps and ledgers, a crystal ink well and white quill sitting off to one side. Between the desk and the window was an even more comfortable looking chair. Off to the left of the desk was an old globe, some of the names starting to wear off in places.</p><p>Between the window and the starboard side sat a cabinet, its glasspaned door latched shut. Bottles of alcohol and sets of drinking glasses took up the top row. A small chest and more ledgers made up the second row. The third row was lined with odds and ends, expensive knickknacks that Felix was sure were plucked from hordes of stolen loot, things he’d taken a liking to and kept for himself rather than selling. The bottom half of the cabinet was made up of three drawers, perhaps filled with clothes.</p><p>Against the port side, a large bed was set in an alcove built into the wall. It was fitted with elegant if worn bedding, and drapes similar to that of the window hung above it. Though it was cloaked in shadow from its angle to the window, Felix could just make out more shelves lining the wall inside, perhaps covered with items of a more personal nature to the captain.</p><p>The starboard wall housed a modest bookshelf, almost completely filled with volumes that Felix wasn’t close enough to make out the titles of. Strange. He wouldn’t have taken a pirate captain for a reader. A large rug covered the floor, soft and squishy under Felix’s booted feet. Four sconces were set into the walls, the oil lamps unlit at the moment.</p><p>Very quickly, Felix found himself out of new things to look at. Outside, the light changed slowly from the warm golden tones of midday to the oranges, reds, and pinks of evening, the sea reflecting the vibrant fire of the sky. He couldn’t help but think of the bright hair of the captain.</p><p>Hours passed before he heard the door open behind him, and he craned his neck to see the captain step in, hanging his long brown doublet on a coat rack, along with the belt that held his sword and pistol. In his hands, he held a wooden plate and a waterskin.</p><p>He smiled kindly as he rounded Felix, sitting the plate and water skin on the desk and leaning against the polished wood to study his hostage with crossed arms. The captain didn’t fit very well with Felix’s mental image of a pirate. He was clean, for one thing, with perfect white teeth and washed hair. His nails weren’t caked with grime, and a pleasant spicy smell lingered on him. His clothes – worn brown trousers, a loose white shirt, and almost knee-high black boots – were clean as well.</p><p>He grabbed Felix’s chin softly, tilting his face up to meet his eyes. “I see you got mouthy,” he teased. Felix just glared. “If you promise you’re not going to try to bite me, I’ll take it off.” How was Felix meant to promise anything if he couldn’t speak? The captain seemed to realize that problem as well, as he added, “Blink once if you agree.”</p><p>Felix blinked once. The captain leaned forward to untie the cloth. Felix felt like he’d swallowed sand and desperately licked at his dry, cracked lips with a parched tongue. “Water?” the man offered, holding up the skin.</p><p>“Please,” Felix croaked, not caring for the moment if he sounded pathetic.</p><p>“Fair warning,” the captain said, holding the skin up to his lips, “it tastes like shit.” It did, indeed, taste like shit, Felix noted as the captain slowly let the cool water trickle into his mouth. That didn’t matter, though, and Felix drank it down greedily, heedless of the way it dribbled down his chin.</p><p>Eventually, the water ran out, and the captain pulled it away. Felix felt a little better with some water in him, though his stomach rumbled painfully as he stared at the plate of food. A selection of salted meat, hard cheese, lumpy bread, and a couple of orange wedges. The fruit was a welcome sight. They must not have been at sea very long yet, if they still had fresh produce.</p><p>“What’s your name?” the captain asked, then, apparently not very concerned with the whale sounds emitting from Felix’s stomach.</p><p>He considered not answering him, but it wasn’t as if he had much else to lose at that point anyway. Why not his name? “Felix.”</p><p>“Sylvain,” he offered, though Felix hadn’t asked. His eyes were smoldering as he stared down at Felix. “Now, are you going to be a good little hostage? Because, if you can behave, I’ll untie your hands.”</p><p>“I’m not going to fight you,” Felix sighed. What point would there be in that? A troublesome hostage often becomes a dead hostage, after all.</p><p>“Good.” Sylvain stepped around him, kneeling down and beginning to pick at the knot binding his wrists. True to his word, Felix didn’t lash out once his hands were freed, more concerned with stretching out his aching shoulders and rubbing his sore wrists. Sylvain returned his his spot leaning against the desk. He saw Felix’s eyes, locked on the plate once more. “Help yourself.”</p><p>Felix didn’t need to be told twice. He stuffed his face with whatever bit of food he could get in his hands first, barely even taking the time to taste. Sylvain watched, amused by Felix’s ravenous display. It didn’t take long before the plate was empty and Felix’s stomach was full.</p><p>The two men sat in silence for a moment, sizing each other up and trying to figure each other out. Felix swallowed hard. He’d heard plenty of stories about people who’d been taken captive by pirates. “So, what?” he huffed, scowling off to the side, no longer able to meet Sylvain’s eyes. “Is this the part where you have your way with me?” Because there was no mistaking the hungry way Sylvain looked at him. He could <em>feel</em> his cheeks burning at the thought.</p><p>Sylvain laughed. “I think someone reads too many romance novels,” he teased, rounding the desk and sinking into his own plush chair, leaning back comfortably. Felix dared a glance over at him, not trusting his smooth laugh and easy smile. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, if you <em>wanted </em>to fuck, I absolutely wouldn’t say no. But, given the circumstances, I’m going to guess you don’t.”</p><p>“I don’t.”</p><p>Sylvain shrugged lightly. “So, no worries.”</p><p>Felix studied him through slitted eyes. “Then why did you have me brought to your quarters?”</p><p>“It’s more comfortable than the cargo hold, and more private than the crew cabins.” Was that really all it was? “I mean, unless you would prefer sharing a little, windowless box with three other men?”</p><p>“Not really.” Felix shifted uncomfortably, the chain rattling lightly with his movement. “You expect me to sleep chained to a chair for a month?”</p><p>Sylvain laughed again. “No, of course not. Raphael is going to bring up an extra cot later. You’ll sleep chained to a cot for a month.” Felix glared at him. “Oh, don’t give me that look. I’m not stupid enough to risk a knife in my chest every night.”</p><p>“Smart.” Sylvain stood, moving to the cabinet and pulling out two glasses and a bottle of amber liquid.</p><p>“Brandy?” he offered, holding up the bottle, the liquid inside sloshing. Felix shrugged, and Sylvain took it as yes, pouring them each a glass and sliding one over. It wasn’t great brandy, but alcohol was alcohol, he supposed.</p><p>“You know,” Felix muttered between sips, “I don’t think most kidnappers share drinks with their hostages.”</p><p>Sylvain chuckled, ruffling his hair a little, almost sheepishly. “Would you believe me if I said I don’t usually have hostages?”</p><p>Felix glanced down at the chains that bound him to the chair. “No, probably not,” he decided.</p><p>“Oh, those?” Sylvain dismissed. “You’re actually the first person I’ve had to use those on that I’m not being paid to haul.” Felix raised an eyebrow. What, did the guy deal in slaves? “Okay, that sounded bad. What I mean is, occasionally, some seedier government officials need a criminal moved discreetly and will hire a crew with a more… benign reputation to do the job. In exchange, some of the charges against us <em>mysteriously</em> go away. I get paid and it gets the navy off my ass for a little while.”</p><p>“Or you could, I don’t know, <em>not</em> commit piracy.”</p><p>Sylvain rolled his eyes. “Wow, I’ve never thought of that before,” he said dryly. “Truly, a revelation.”</p><p>Felix studied him for a moment, wondering what drew the guy to piracy in the first place. A charismatic, handsome, and if Felix wasn’t mistaken, intelligent guy like him could have easily run a legitimate trading charter, earned an honest living. Instead, he looted weaker ships and didn’t seem to care about the morality or legality of it.</p><p>“So, why take me?” Felix couldn’t help but ask.</p><p>Sylvain’s brow furrowed as he considered the question, taking a long sip of his brandy. “Seemed like a good opportunity,” he decided.</p><p>“Fifty-thousand gold,” Felix snorted. “That’s all my life is worth.”</p><p>“Don’t take it personally,” Sylvain said, his disarming smirk returning. “The higher the ransom, the less likely rich assholes are to pay it.”</p><p>Felix swallowed hard, looking down at the dregs of alcohol remaining in the bottom of his glass, trying to ignore the gnawing in his stomach at the thought. Surely the old man wouldn’t be so callous… Surely, he would make an exception…</p><p>Felix shivered, despite the heat. Because he wasn’t so sure.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Title Name: a song from a band you've never heard of, Ocean Between by a pirate themed rock band called Brave the Sea. (The song is on Youtube if you're curious).</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just to give the story a more pirate-y feel, Fodlan in this story is an archipelago of smaller islands rather than a continent. There are also no crests or heroes relics in this story, in case that wasn't clear, though the Church of Seiros is still a thing.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Sylvain was bent over the rail, an angry slate colored sea churning beneath him. He could feel the salty spray stinging his eyes, the fine mist clinging to him, making him shiver. His stomach churned just as angrily as the waves, and as the ship cast hard to the port side, buffeted by an overzealous swell, so did Sylvain cast over the b</em><em>ow</em> <em>. </em></p><p><em> A few of the men chuckled at the sight </em> <em>of </em> <em>the seasick boy losing his lunch over the side of the ship. Some </em> <em>even </em> <em>jeered; it seemed the Gautiers weren’t so much better than everyone else, after all. Things they could only get away with saying because his father wasn’t around to hear. Not that his father cared if Sylvain was being harassed. No, his complaint would be the blow to his own pride. </em></p><p><em> They’d been at sea for three days, and it had been nothing but misery for the boy. He was weak and lethargic from throwing up </em> <em>nearly</em> <em> everything he ate – the sailors liked to joke, why waste the food feeding the boy if it was just going to end up in the ocean anyway? Hilarious – and the rocking of the ship and the rolling of his stomach made sleep nearly impossible. </em> <em>The weather had been cold and miserable, the sky and sea a nearly identical shade of dour gray. While Sylvain had champed at the bit </em> <em>when given the chance of</em> <em> escaping his brother for an entire summer, he was quickly coming to regret his decision.</em></p><p>
  <em> It would be another two weeks before they reached the island of Garreg Mach, a little rock in the middle of the Fódlan archipelago that sat dead center between Imperial, Kingdom, and Alliance waters. It was something of a rite of passage for noble-born children to study there for a summer, something about learning scripture from the source. Sylvain didn’t care about any of that, he just wanted to get away from home for a little while. If that meant spilling his guts through the duration of a Goddess-forsaken voyage over choppy waters, so be it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> But, damn, did Sylvain hate sailing.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>~OoO~</p><p> </p><p>Having his pretty little captive sitting across from his desk proved to be quite distracting, Sylvain decided as he worked on meticulously copying down into his ledger – in code, no less – the inventory of their score that he’d asked Hilda to compile (meaning she pawned the task off on someone else by batting her eyelashes and flashing a sweet smile). It really need to be done; his quartermaster would have his hide if he put it off too long.</p><p>He could feel Felix’s eyes on him while he wrote, glaring daggers.</p><p>He’d been mouthy again, telling Sylvain he hoped he found himself taking a short drop with a sudden stop when Sylvain suggested he try and make the best of his time aboard <em>Lady Ruin</em>. And <em>maybe</em> Sylvain had enjoyed gagging his pretty little mouth again, binding his hands behind the chair… just a <em>little</em>, honest. But, come on, the dark-haired man was cute as hell all tied up and scowling.</p><p>He was also incredibly distracting.</p><p>Sylvain hadn’t been lying when he said he most certainly wouldn’t say no if Felix wanted to fuck. And, okay, maybe Hilda had been right in guessing he was thinking a bit more with his little brain than he should have been, but who could blame him? Those amber eyes were captivating, and Sylvain found himself wondering what it would feel like to run his fingers through those strands of inky hair.</p><p>Generally speaking, however, he guessed most captives weren’t going to willingly throw themselves into the arms of their captors, and Sylvain wasn’t about to force himself on the helpless Fraldarius boy, no matter how hot he was.</p><p>There was also the little factor of whether or not Felix remembered him. He’d noticed no look of recognition in the man’s eyes the entire time they talked, no hint that he knew who he was talking to. Asking Felix’s name had been a test of sorts, to see if his brow furrowed as if he thought Sylvain should have known it already, to see if he lied. He didn’t, and when Sylvain had offered up his own name, Felix hadn’t reacted in the slightest.</p><p>Of course, Felix had been no older than eight when they last met, and it had been over fifteen years since then. Perhaps it wasn’t so unreasonable to think that he’d completely forgotten a boy he knew for only a few scant moons and never spoke to again, never heard from again…</p><p>Sylvain realized he’d been staring at the paper for some time without writing anything, a few drops of ink staining the page where they had dripped from the nib of the quill. He was trying not the glance up at his hostage who was squirming in the chair, the chain around his torso rattling lightly.</p><p>He couldn’t help himself; he chanced a peek up through his eyelashes. Felix’s cheeks were flushed slightly as he wiggled in place, harsh eyes just the slightest bit distressed. Sylvain returned the quill to the inkwell and gave Felix his undivided attention, cocking his head to the side as he regarded his agitated guest.</p><p>“Is something the matter?” Felix answered with a wiggle of his hips, his attempts at speaking through the gag coming out as nothing more than unintelligible hums and huffs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” Sylvain said, unable to help himself from taunting the man. Felix glared sharply, before pointedly dropping his gaze to his lap and back. Sylvain arched an eyebrow.</p><p>The sound Felix made was borderline pitiful, and the awful part of Sylvain couldn’t help but find it insanely adorable. “I don’t think we’re getting anywhere with charades,” Sylvain conceded with a sigh. “If I take off the gag, are you going to stop saying you hope I hang?” Rolling his eyes over-dramatically, Felix nodded.</p><p>With a laugh under his breath, Sylvain stood and rounded the desk. “Good, because it was very rude. It hurt my feelings, you know.” Another roll of his pretty eyes, and then his mouth was free. Still standing behind Felix, Sylvain leaned close, hands resting on the man’s shoulders, craning his neck to see his face. “Now, what do you need?”</p><p>Felix’s cheeks were still flushed as he scowled toward the window. “I have to piss.”</p><p>Sylvain blinked, and a bubble of laughter escaped his lips. He sounded so helpless and dejected. While he remembered to feed his hostage, he kind of forgot about other bodily needs the man was obviously going to have. How long had he been sitting there holding it before he managed to grab Sylvain’s attention?</p><p>“Well, why didn’t you say something?” he teased, already working at the knot binding Felix’s wrists behind the chair.</p><p>“Fuck you.”</p><p>Sylvain just hummed noncommittally. It took a few moments more before Felix was entirely freed from the chair. “There’s a chamber pot in the corner.” Felix shoved past him roughly, not the slightest bit shy as he relieved himself. Sylvain returned to sit at his desk.</p><p>Sylvain politely didn’t stare until Felix had finished, at which point he felt no shame watching the way he stretched and worked out his stiff muscles, flexing this way and that. He rounded back on Sylvain a moment later, arms crossed in front of him, indignant and just a hair shy of pouting. “Are you going to make me get back in the fucking chair?”</p><p>Briefly, Sylvain considered it. A bound captive was much easier to keep track of, of course, but so far the worst of Felix’s behavior had been a sharp tongue, hardly a fatal weapon. He didn’t seem combative, which had certainly been a concern initially. More than anything, he just seemed resigned to getting the whole ordeal over with. Really, most of the reasons Sylvain could think of to keep him tied up were purely aesthetic.</p><p>He valued his life enough to <em>not</em> voice those reasons.</p><p>“Are you going to behave?” he asked instead, fixing Felix with a pointed stare.</p><p>“Are you going to keep talking to me like a child?”</p><p>“Are you going to keep answering questions with more questions?”</p><p>“Are <em>you</em>?”</p><p>Sylvain chuckled. “No, I’m not going to make you get back in the chair,” he decided, breaking the cycle of questions. “As to whether I’ll keep talking to you like a child… we’ll see.”</p><p>“Asshole,” Felix huffed. He shifted on his feet, clearly not wanting to sit back down out of fear that if he returned to the chair, Sylvain would go back on his word and tie him up again. Being the good host that he was, Sylvain stood and cleared away the ropes and chains, stowing them in a drawer in his desk before gesturing for Felix to feel free to sit.</p><p>Slowly, he did. He scowled, seemingly a permanent fixture on his face at this point, glancing back and forth between Sylvain and the wall. Sylvain waited patiently for him to say whatever was clearly on his mind. “Can I read one of your books?” he finally asked in a mumble, sheepish as if asking his abductor for any favor was like pulling teeth.</p><p>“Of course.” Sylvain stepped over to the bookshelf before Felix could move, eyes scanning quickly through the worn titles there. It took only a moment for him to find the one he was looking for and he handed it over to Felix with a wink. “I think you’ll like this one.”</p><p>“I don’t even get to pick my own fucking book?” he grouched, snatching it from Sylvain’s hand.</p><p>“It’s just a suggestion,” Sylvain laughed. “Something I thought you might enjoy.”</p><p>Felix shot him a sharp look. “Because you know so Goddess damned much about me.” His tone was harsh, scathing. Accusatory. Before Sylvain could hope to work out the reason behind that, Felix just shook his head with a huff and opened the book.</p><p>Well, he could worry about his grouchy hostage later. He still had to finished copying down the ledger. The two sat in silence for a time, only the creaking of the ship, the slosh of the waves below, the scratch of Sylvain’s quill, and the occasional turn of Felix’s pages filling the background with rhythmic white noise that lulled them into a more relaxed atmosphere.</p><p>The last of the day’s sunlight was sinking below the horizon when Sylvain finally finished his writing. With a heavy sigh, he dropped the quill and stretched his aching hand. Felix had barely made a peep the entire time, and Sylvain cast him a curious glance. His brow was furrowed as he read intently, a pink lip caught between his teeth. He squinted slightly, and it was then that Sylvain realized it was probably getting a little dark for reading, given the fact that he faced away from the window.</p><p>Sylvain lit the oil lamps that hung on the sconces, filling the room with a pleasant glow. Felix blinked, looking up from his book as if he had only just realized it was dark himself. “You’re a bastard, you know that?” he huffed.</p><p>“What did I do this time?” Sylvain wondered with a laugh.</p><p>Felix held up the book. “It’s a little on the nose to give your hostage a book about a guy who gets press ganged onto a pirate ship, don’t you think?”</p><p>Sylvain laughed. “I thought you might like something relatable.” Felix scoffed, but there was surprisingly little bite behind it.</p><p>Before Felix could fire back some retort, there was a knock on the door. He could see the man’s shoulders go tense, as if he’d forgotten there were other pirates on this pirate ship, pirates who might be worse than Sylvain. He pretended to go back to reading when Sylvain called for his visitor to enter, but he could see Felix’s eyes cast off to the side, watching.</p><p>“Captain,” his guest greeted, voice stiff and formal as Sylvain had come to expect from his prim and proper quartermaster, the violet-haired Lorenz. The man stopped in the doorway, a hand on his hip. “Have you finished copying the inventory?”</p><p>“I have,” Sylvain confirmed, grabbing the ledger off the desk and tossing it over. Lorenz caught it easily, flipping it open and scanning over the most recent page quickly.</p><p>“Thank you.” His purple eyes settled on Felix, slitted slightly as he studied the dark-haired man. “Why is he untied?”</p><p>Sylvain rolled his eyes. “He’s been on his best behavior, I think he deserves-”</p><p>“<em>He</em> is sitting right here,” Felix bit out, snapping the book closed and tossing a glare over his shoulder at the pair of them, “and he can hear everything you’re saying.”</p><p>“Sorry,” Sylvain said, not really all that sorry. “Felix, meet my quartermaster, Lorenz. Lorenz, this is Felix.”</p><p>Neither seemed too interested in greetings. However, they both shared a tendency to stare at Sylvain in exasperation. Lorenz shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I still don’t know what possessed you to take him,” he chided. “That was definitely not part of the plan.”</p><p>Sylvain shrugged lopsidedly. “I prefer to live in the moment.”</p><p>Lorenz didn’t look very impressed. “Next time, would you <em>please</em> run your hair-brained ideas through me, first?”</p><p>“You need to lighten up a little, Lorenz,” he laughed. “You’re going to go prematurely gray.”</p><p>The man smoothed down his hair self-consciously, glowering at Sylvain. “And you’re going to be the death of us all,” he sighed. “If you see us all to the gallows, I will never forgive you.”</p><p>“Duly noted.”</p><p>Looking remarkably like he’d swallowed a lemon, in the way only Lorenz could, the quartermaster turned on his heel and showed himself out.</p><p>“Wow, he’s not afraid to take the piss out of you,” Felix laughed, the corners of his lips tugging up slightly. He looked pretty when he smiled, Sylvain decided, even if it was while he was mocking Sylvain. “I like him.”</p><p>“You would.”</p><p> </p><p>~OoO~</p><p> </p><p>Not long after the purple-haired quartermaster left, another knock on the door came. This time the bulky, overly-friendly man stood on the other side, single-handedly toting a wooden cot over one shoulder, a thin mattress rolled up under his other arm. Barely visible behind him was a slight, silver-haired boy, perhaps a little younger than Felix, carrying two plates of food.</p><p>Sylvain invited them in, and Felix watched silently from his chair as the captain instructed the blond to set up the cot by the bookcase. He pulled the shackles from where he’d stored them in his desk drawer before, locking one end around the leg of the bookcase, giving a sharp tug to test the strength of the sturdy wood. Felix knew there was no way in hell he was going to be able to get free once he was locked in, short of managing to saw off the wooden leg (or his own, but that would be more of an absolute last resort than anything).</p><p>Meanwhile, the silver-haired boy let himself in, setting the plates of food down on the desk. He smiled kindly at Felix, all earnest green eyes. “What are you reading?” he asked in a soft voice, nodding toward the book still clutched in Felix’s hands.</p><p>He checked the title. “‘Dart and the Faerghus Pirates.’”</p><p>The boy laughed lightly. “Interesting choice.”</p><p>“Yeah, your captain thinks he’s funny-”</p><p>“No,” Sylvain cut in, from somewhere behind them, “I know I’m hilarious.”</p><p>Felix rolled his eyes. “Have you read it?”</p><p>The boy nodded eagerly. “The captain lets me read his books all the time.” Wow, how generous of him. “I think I’ve read almost all of them at least once. Once you finish this one, can I recommend my favorite one to you?”</p><p>“Is it another fucking pirate story?” Felix asked dryly.</p><p>“Oh, no,” he assured him. “Nothing like that.”</p><p>“Then, why not?” The boy looked pleased at the prospect, promising to talk to him later about Dart if he wanted to discuss it with someone, and excusing himself. With the cot set up, Sylvain sent the blond pirate – Raphael, he called him – on his way, returning to the desk and settling in to eat their dinner.</p><p>It was nothing special, just some cured meat of unknown origin, hard bread, and pickled radishes that Felix didn’t like, but ate because beggars can’t afford to be choosers. They washed it down with shitty ale.</p><p>“I see you’re already making friends,” Sylvain teased while they ate. “Can’t go wrong with Ashe, I suppose. He’s a good kid.”</p><p>“Your ship seems to have a lot of those,” Felix noted. “How is that? Aren’t pirates supposed to be horrible people?”</p><p>Sylvain laughed. “I would guess most pirates are,” he conceded, “but it’s not just shitty people who find themselves down on their luck with no where else to go.”</p><p>“So you just prey on people who have no other choice.”</p><p>He rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his red hair, no longer smiling. “That’s kind of harsh,” he muttered. “They’re here because they want to be. I offered them a job, they took it on their own free will. I’m not forcing anyone to be here if they don’t want to be.”</p><p>“Really?” he asked dryly. Felix was beginning to wonder if the captain heard himself when he spoke.</p><p>“Okay, present company excluded.”</p><p>Something about that made Felix fume, and he finished eating in silence, ignoring any and all attempts Sylvain made to rekindle conversation. Once their plates were clean, Felix buried himself in his book once again, shutting out the obnoxious captain all together.</p><p>He was forced to stop reading when Sylvain started putting out the lamps, getting ready for bed. He supposed the captain would have to be up early, wouldn’t he? He refused to speak, even as his ankle was shackled to the book case, laying back on his cot like a petulant child.</p><p>Sylvain snuffed out the final lamp and crawled into his own luxurious bed. The cabin was bathed in watery light from the waning moon, and the gentle rocking of the ship was soothing, familiar. Felix closed his eyes, but he couldn’t sleep, bombarded by the thoughts he’d been trying not to dwell on all day.</p><p>Why did this have to happen to him? Kidnapped by pirates, ransomed off to his father, and on a <em>whim</em>, no less. It was horribly unfair. Though, he supposed he should have been grateful that Sylvain of all pirates was the one who kidnapped him, the one pirate in the Fódlan archipelago that seemed to have no inclination toward violence.</p><p>Slowly, Sylvain’s steady breathes turned into soft snores as he sank into sleep. After two weeks on <em>The Aegis</em>, below deck with the rest of the crew who all seemed to snore like beasts, Sylvain was practically silent. Curious, Felix kicked his foot, the chain clattering loudly. The captain’s snores cut off abruptly, though he gave no other indication of being awake. Felix pretended to be asleep himself. Minutes passed before the soft snoring resumed.</p><p>So he was a light sleeper. Felix filed that away as potentially useful information. Not that Felix was particularity interested in trying to escape. Or murdering Sylvain in his sleep, as nice as that idea was to consider. He would be a <em>good little hostage</em>. The less he rocked the boat (ship?), the better.</p><p>Eventually, somehow, Felix managed to fall asleep too.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Felix awoke to the clanging of metal, blearily peeling his eyes open to see Sylvain stooped over him, busy unlocking the shackle from his ankle. He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, pushing himself up as Sylvain turned away from him. The man was in the same clothes as the day before, ruffled but still clean. He ignored Felix as he occupied himself by fastening his belt back around his hip. The scabbard of his cutlass bounced against his leg on one side, and the metal of his pistol gleamed in the early morning sunlight on the other.</p><p>“Are you coming or what?” Sylvain wondered, tossing a glance over his shoulder at his captive.</p><p>Felix’s brow furrowed. “Coming where?” he mumbled, voice still thick with sleep.</p><p>“I assumed you would want breakfast.” The man’s lips tugged up in a light smile. “Or did you expect us to wait on you hand and foot the whole time, <em>your highness</em>?”</p><p>He managed a half-hearted glare. “Oh, so I’m allowed to leave your cabin, am I?”</p><p>“Of course,” Sylvain laughed. “Why wouldn’t you be?”</p><p>“Oh, I don’t know,” he bit back, “it might have something to do with the fact that I’m a hostage.”</p><p>Sylvain smirked, leaning up against the doorway. “Well, the way I see it, you’re stuck on a potentially hostile pirate ship in the middle of shark-infested waters, hundreds of miles from the nearest bit of inhabited land. You don’t exactly have anywhere to go, so I’m not all that worried.” Felix scowled at him, but pushed himself to his feet, stumbling a bit as the ship cast to and fro lightly in the water. “Just stay out of the way, and I don’t imagine there will be too much trouble, alright?”</p><p>With a sigh, Felix grabbed his book and followed Sylvain out of the cabin. Felix paid close attention to his surroundings. Sylvain’s quarters sat at the very end of a narrow hallway lined with four doors. Off to the left of Sylvain’s door was a steep set of rather rickety-looking stairs that went below deck, a soft glow of lamplight illuminating the darkness.</p><p>Sylvain headed down the stairs, and not exactly having anywhere else to go, Felix followed. The upper deck was a mostly-open space with rows of currently empty hammocks tied between posts along the walls, about two dozen in total. A few men sat around makeshift tables made of old crates, on small barrels for chairs, playing dice or cards, stuffing their faces with their breakfast. Some supplies were stacked neatly in empty spaces, tied off with thick ropes knotted securely in place.</p><p>Near the front of the ship, a small room was sectioned off from the rest of the deck, and that seemed to be where Sylvain was bound. He pushed through the door and Felix trailed in after him into what seemed to be the galley. Several cupboards lined the walls over crates that seemed to serve as counter tops. A wood-burning stove was set into the exterior wall, its smoke vented out through a porthole, and next to it was a tub of water – presumably sea water as opposed to fresh – with several wooden bowls resting at the bottom.</p><p>The silver-haired boy Felix had met the night before, Ashe, stood at the stove, busy stirring a large pot of what smelled like grits. “Morning, Captain,” he greeted brightly when he noticed their arrival. “Oh, and Felix. Good morning.”</p><p>“Morning, Ashe,” Sylvain returned, peering over his shoulder into the pot. “Looks good.”</p><p>The boy’s cheeks reddened at the small praise. “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s ready if you’re hungry.” Sylvain fetched two clean bowls and wooden spoons from the cupboard. Ashe ladled generous spoonfuls of grits into each bowl. Sylvain passed one over to Felix, who took it gratefully. A moment later, the captain pressed a small tankard of some mild-smelling ale into his hand. “You’re lucky you came when you did,” the man noted with a smirk, already heading back out after a quick thanks to Ashe, “we don’t always eat so good, but we’re set on supplies for the time being and due to make port soon, so we’re able to indulge a little bit.”</p><p>If this was indulgence, Felix thought as they took a seat at a makeshift table alongside a man with long, green hair who seemed to be sleeping with his head cradled into his arms, he would hate to see what it looked like when they were forced to strictly ration their food. Or, maybe it was just some bizarre joke, based on what little Felix had seen of the captain’s sense of humor.</p><p>Sylvain sighed, shaking his head as he regarded the sleeping man. “I swear, if I had a gold for every time I saw this guy sleeping… well, I wouldn’t be a pirate, that’s for damn sure.” Despite his words, there was almost a fondness in the way he spoke, as if one of his crew sleeping on the job was nothing more than a lovable quirk. Who knew? Maybe to Sylvain, it was.</p><p>Felix didn’t comment, too preoccupied shoveling down his, admittedly quite tasty, grits. “Lin,” Sylvain muttered, nudging the green-haired man’s shoulder lightly. “Linhardt. Wake up. Your breakfast is getting cold.”</p><p>Slowly, the man lifted his head, blue eyes blinking and unfocused. “Oh, good morning, Captain,” he muttered blandly, heaving out a massive yawn and stretching broadly. His eyes slowly came into focus, and he noticed Felix. “Who are you? I don’t remember us picking anyone up last time we made port.”</p><p>Sylvain’s brow furrowed. “Lin, we picked him up yesterday.”</p><p>“We made port yesterday?”</p><p>“No… we raided a ship yesterday.”</p><p>Linhardt just blinked slowly. “He kidnapped me,” Felix offered thought a mouthful of grits.</p><p>“Ah,” the man muttered, seeming to grow uninterested. “That would explain it. I’m afraid I slept through the raid yesterday.” With another mighty yawn, the man stood, grabbing his bowl. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Captain… man we kidnapped.” And with no more fanfare than a brisk nod of his head, he turned and left them.</p><p>Felix didn’t know what to make of the strange, tired man. “What’s his deal?” he wondered.</p><p>“My guess? Narcolepsy.” He shrugged, and Felix was once again left wondering if it was some kind of deadpan joke, or if he was serious. “But, he’s a good guy, and probably the best doctor this ship’s ever had.”</p><p>“He’s a doctor?”</p><p>“He’d talk your ear off about anatomy or herbal remedies if you let him.” Sylvain laughed, ruffling his hair. “Try and talk to him about literally anything else, and he’ll just get bored and walk away.”</p><p>“So I noticed.”</p><p>There were still a few other men idling around, and Felix could feel their curious stares on him, even as he tried to focus on eating, focus on talking with Sylvain. Something about being surrounded by, as Sylvain had put it, <em>potentially hostile pirates </em>was enough to make the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Sure, Sylvain might not have ill intentions toward Felix, but how could he be certain the same could be said for his crew?</p><p>Felix tried not to dwell on the thought.</p><p>After finishing their breakfast and returning their bowls to the galley, Felix followed Sylvain back up the stairs and down the narrow hallway to the main deck. The sunlight was bright and the heat already sweltering, a strong wind making the white sails billow. The crewmen bustled around doing their duties, raucous with laughter as they worked. Felix lingered back, taking in the gleaming cerulean waves and the scarce, patchy clouds the drifted lazily overhead. It was only when he noticed that he’d drawn the – were they leering? – eyes of a few of the crew that he hastened to follow Sylvain up the stairs to the quarter deck.</p><p>Sylvain laughed and chatted happily with the man who was at the helm. The helmsman was just a tad shorter than Felix, if Felix had to guess, with hair of sky blue, the right side cropped short while the top was long and fluffy, fluttering in the breeze.</p><p>Felix leaned against the railing, fidgeting with the book he held tight in his hands. He didn’t scare easily, but everywhere he looked, he found himself reminded of his situation and couldn’t help the unease that bloomed in his stomach. As easygoing as Sylvain and Ashe and even the overly friendly Raphael had been, Felix was in enemy territory, under the scrutiny of pirates who, by the following moon would likely simply kill him if his father refused to pay the ransom. For all of Sylvain’s playful smiles, he was still a prisoner with a phantom noose around his neck.</p><p>And more than anything, Felix just didn’t know what to do with himself, out in the open for all the curious pirates to ogle and sneer at. Sylvain’s quarters were private. They were safe. Maybe he should just hide in there-</p><p>“If you’re going to puke, please do it over the side,” a woman’s voice snapped, pulling him from his thoughts. He glanced over to see the pink-haired first mate staring at him warily, her hands on her hips. “I <em>so</em> don’t want to have to clean up puke.”</p><p>“As if you’d clean it up anyway, Hilda,” Sylvain laughed coming to a stop next to them. “You’d probably con poor Ashe or someone into doing it.” She flipped a pink ponytail over her shoulder with a pout, not dignifying his jab with a response.</p><p>“I’m not going to puke,” he huffed, crossing his arms.</p><p>He could feel Sylvain’s appraising eyes on him, though he didn’t look. “Are you sure?” he wondered, sounding genuinely concerned. “You look pretty pale.”</p><p>“I’m fine,” he snapped.</p><p>Sylvain held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright, just wanted to be sure. Can’t have our hostage keeling over dead, after all.” He spared Sylvain a withering glance, the expected cocky smirk equal parts familiarly comforting and irritating. “We won’t get paid if you die on us.”</p><p>The cynical part of Felix wanted to retort that he probably wasn’t going to get paid either way, but the thought of it set his stomach roiling uncomfortably, and he buried it back down. “Whatever.”</p><p>“Why don’t you find somewhere out of the way to occupy yourself, alright?” Sylvain suggested, ruffing his hair patronizingly in a way that made the roiling in his stomach turn from unease to anger. “Go read your book or make some friends or something.”</p><p>Felix swatted his hand away, hating the way that he could feel his cheeks heat and cursing his pale skin for that fact, and he stalked away. He found a somewhat shady spot out of the way, his back against the high side of the ship. In the shade, the heat of the day wasn’t so bad.</p><p>Aboard <em>The Aegis</em>, he’d been put to work right alongside the other men, and he didn’t mind it so much. Noble-born he may have been, but he wasn’t opposed to manual labor, relishing in the way his muscles ached after a long day’s work.</p><p>On <em>Lady Ruin</em>, though, he was a hostage, not a part of the crew. He didn’t have to lift a finger, and if anyone bothered to ask, he had every intention of petulantly telling them to fuck off. The downside of that, however, was the fact that there was very little to do on a ship when one wasn’t busy helping sail it.</p><p>He idled away the time between reading his book, genuinely finding himself rather enthralled in Dart’s adventures with the Faerghus pirates, and people-watching. Most of the men seemed to be typical sailors, though perhaps a touch less concerned about personal hygiene. A few, however, he found himself fascinated by.</p><p>There was Raphael, kind and lighthearted. He seemed to laugh and smile freely, and Felix was rather amazed to see him single-handedly do tasks that should have taken three men. He even whistled while he worked. Felix found himself feeling rather guilty for telling him to fuck off when he was just trying to be nice the day before. Though, he was, perhaps, still a bit sour about getting gagged for being <em>mouthy</em>.</p><p>Hilda amused Felix as he watched her work. Or, rather, pawn off all of her work to everyone around her. She batted her eyes, she smiled, she bartered, she lied. Whatever it took to get out of doing anything that involved lifting more than five pounds or walking more than twenty feet, Hilda would do it. She was good at giving out orders and organizing, though, and the crew didn’t seem to mind her slacking off too much. Maybe they were just used to it.</p><p>The purple-haired quartermaster, Lorenz, seemed way too prim and proper to be a pirate. He spoke formally and held himself with an air that smacked of nobility. Whoever he’d been before joining the crew of <em>Lady Ruin</em>, it hadn’t been some street urchin or beggar, that was for sure. He, like Hilda, tried his best to hand off physical labor to his crew mates, but he was much less successful at it. Just as the crew seemed to know there was no getting Hilda to do any heavy lifting, they seemed to know that all it took to get Lorenz to do the heavy lifting was some thinly spun bait about how he probably wouldn’t be able to handle it anyway. Lorenz would huff in indignation at the insult and he would prove them wrong.</p><p>The blue-haired helmsman whose name Felix eventually overheard – Caspar – was carefree and jovial. He joked with the passing crewmen, challenged people to arm-wrestling matches, and took wagers for scant few gold coins on the actions of other crew members.</p><p>Ashe and Linhardt didn’t venture above deck much, their duties lying below, though Felix did get a chance to talk to Ashe about the book when the boy served lunch to the hungry crew, just stale bread and mysterious dried meat. And ale. Lots of ale, of course. During lunch, he met a different green-haired man, more lime colored than pine. He was bespectacled, and seemed soft-spoken and meek. Felix caught his name, Ignatz, when Sylvain went to speak with him, and gathered that he was the ship's navigator.</p><p>Then there was Sylvain. Despite being captain, he wasn’t above doing the hard work himself. He jumped in where needed, eager to lend a hand to keep his vessel afloat. He didn’t try and hand off the work he didn’t want to do, like Hilda and Lorenz, and the crew laughed and joked along with him. They seemed to respect him a lot.</p><p>Felix realized, much to his annoyance, that he found himself watching Sylvain the most. The captain was magnetic as he worked. His skin glistened in the sunlight from the sheen of sweat that clung to it, his white shirt sticking to his chest, to his toned biceps. His fiery hair gleamed with gold as the sun hit it, tousled lightly in the breeze. Though Felix tried very hard not to watch him, he failed miserably.</p><p>Eventually, the light of day began to die, the air cooling to a more tolerable temperature. Dinner was served, and much of the crew – those who weren’t still busy – congregated on the main deck. Felix watched with curiosity as they gathered, and Sylvain caught his eye. The man grinned broadly, beckoning him to join with a tilt of his chin. Reluctantly, Felix did so.</p><p>Felix stayed off to the side a bit, away from the ring of pirates that sat gathered around a lantern. And, much to Felix’s surprise, they began to tell stories. Some were long, epic tales of adventure. Some were ghost stories that fell rather flat due to a poorly performed recount. Some were salacious stories that made the man hoot and jeer.</p><p>All the while, bottles of rum were passed around, each man taking a swig before handing it off. One bottle made it to Sylvain, who stood and generously offered it to Felix. Hoping that the alcohol was strong enough to kill any mouth diseases that may have found their way onto the lip of the bottle, Felix took a drink before handing the bottle back to Sylvain.</p><p>Sylvain lingered a moment longer, and with a kind smile that Felix tried not to think too much about, he extended his hand to Felix. “Come on, you’ll have more fun if you actually join in.”</p><p>“Fun,” he huffed, as if he was there to <em>have fun</em> in the first place. Sylvain cocked his head to the side, and with a sigh, Felix let him help him to his feet. They returned to the circle, Felix sinking uncomfortably onto a barrel that was serving as a chair, trying his hardest not to feel too out of place.</p><p>Sylvain and Hilda attempted to goad Felix into telling a story of his own, but Felix – his cheeks burning red – ardently refused; he wasn’t a story-teller, and he wasn’t there for the amusement of a bunch of pirates. Eventually, they dropped the issue and the stories continued via more willing participants.</p><p>After a time, dark fully set over them and alcohol thrumming through Felix’s veins making him feel light and relaxed, one of the crewmen pulled out an old, worn fiddle. The rest of the crew clapped and cheered as he took a spot below the mast and, with a dramatic bow, began to play.</p><p>Upbeat music filled the night air. It wasn’t particularly great by any stretch of the imagination, simple and a bit out of tune, but it was music and the pirates drank it in greedily, clapping their hands to some semblance of the beat.</p><p>Before Felix realized what was happening, Hilda grabbed him by the hand and whisked him to his feet, pulling him into a clumsy, half-drunken dance against his will. Still, he tried his best to match her light, bouncy dancing, wondering if that was what it was like in the seedy taverns he’d heard music drifting from as he passed by in a carriage back on Fraldarius.</p><p>Felix’s only experience with dancing was the ballroom variety his tutor as a child had insisted he learn. Hilda’s dancing wasn’t anywhere near as structured, as she moved this way and that, seeming to let the music lead rather than proper footwork. Soon, he was aware of more of the crew dancing around them, laughing and stamping their feet.</p><p>Everything was moving very quickly to Felix’s slightly intoxicated mind, and he found himself being spun around by Hilda, wobbling and loosing his footing. As he stumbled back and back, arms flailing with the feeling that he was about to fall, he crashed against a broad chest, strong arms circling around him.</p><p>With two warm, large hands pressed to the small of his back, Felix glanced up, eyes rather unfocused. Sylvain smiled down at him, hazel eyes smoldering in the low lamplight. Felix was frozen for a moment, entranced by the way the light flickered and danced over his flaming hair, gold on red, alive and flickering like fire itself.</p><p>Heat pooled in Felix’s stomach, his fingers twisting into the soft fabric of Sylvain’s shirt. Sylvain tilted his head down, just a little, the space between them slowly disappearing inch by inch.</p><p>Felix blinked and returned to his senses, roughly shoving against the captain’s chest and definitely not noticing the taut muscle under his fingertips. His smile faltering just the slightest bit, Sylvain’s arms fell away, letting him free with no resistance. Felix stumbled away, thankful for the low light as he was certain his cheeks were scarlet in that moment. He shrugged off Hilda’s hands as she attempted to pull him back to their dance, and he settled himself away from the pirates once more, back against a wall, knees held tight against his chest.</p><p>Still, when he looked at Sylvain as he continued to mingle and drink among the other pirates, he couldn’t help the coil of heat that burned in his stomach anew each time.</p><p>But, goddess, did he try to ignore it.</p><p> </p><p>~OoO~</p><p> </p><p><em>It always followed Felix’s… </em>dalliances<em>. Somehow, though Felix could never seem to work out how exactly, his father always seemed to find out, and though he never outright mentioned it, Felix could see the man’s actions for what they were. </em><em>P</em><em>unishment. </em></p><p><em> It usually went as follow</em><em>s:</em><em> Felix would find an amenable partner </em><em>by chance</em> <em>among the servants that tended the duke’s home,</em><em> someone who was fair to look at and open to his advances. They would flirt around each other for a few days, away from prying eyes, always careful. The flirting would lead to, perhaps, a bit more; stolen kisses and careless groping in empty rooms or abandoned corridors, never more than that. This would </em><em>go on </em><em>for a week or two, never more than a moon.</em></p><p>
  <em> Then, one morning, he would wake to find his fling missing, come to learn as the servants scuttled by in their duties that they’d been dismissed by the duke for seemingly no reason at all. Felix would sigh, and he would wait until he was summoned to his father’s study.</em>
</p><p><em> There, the man would tell him that he was going to accompany one of his trading ships on an upcoming voyage, usually aboard </em>The Moralta<em> which was captained by his Uncle Gordon, though occasionally he would be sent aboard a different ship. He would spend weeks at sea surrounded by smelly, leering sailors, settle his father’s business on whatever island the goods were bound for even though it wasn’t necessary for either of them to go in person, and he would return to start the process anew because he refused to let his father win even just that one single inch against his will up until the moment he no longer had a choice.</em></p><p>
  <em> Punishment.</em>
</p><p><em>It was a pity though, Felix thought wistfully as he boarded </em>The Aegis<em> with his knapsack slung over his shoulder, that he’d never see his most recent dalliance again. He had rather liked that one.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sylvain’s mind was consumed by the image of Felix staring up at him, amber eyes wide and glassy, mouth agape as he leaned heavily against Sylvain’s chest. Strands of his hair hung loose around his slender face, and Sylvain could just feel the blunt ends of his nails as his fingers twisted into the front of his shirt. With the dim light casting long shadows across his flushed cheeks, and the soft gasp he made when Sylvain’s arms encircled him, Sylvain wanted him even more than he had since bringing the man aboard.</p><p>He wanted to hold him tight, let his hands trail lower and knead into the soft flesh his rear. Wanted to heft him up and let Felix wrap his long legs around his waist. Would he be shy, burying his face in the crook of Sylvain’s neck when the other crewmen hooted with laughter and jokes about the captain getting laid? Sylvain wanted to carry him back to his cabin, whispering gentle assurances not to pay attention to them.</p><p>He wanted to lay him out on his bed, take his time exposing each inch of creamy skin until Felix was nude and splayed out just for him. He wanted to kiss him slowly, map his body under his finger tips, bring him to the brink over and over and over until Felix was soft and pliant and begging under him.</p><p>He wanted so badly-</p><p>But Felix shoved him away – or rather, he shoved against Sylvain’s chest and sent himself stumbling back instead – and it didn’t matter anymore what Sylvain wanted because he wasn’t going to take it unless he knew Felix wanted it to. Some pirate, huh?</p><p>Sylvain let him go, watched with diligently concealed disappointment as the man retreated back into his shell and secluded himself from the crew once more. Guilt bubbled in his stomach as he caught glances out of the corner of his eye of Felix staring blankly at the deck, his knees hugged tight to his chest. Sylvain tried not to show his disappointment, continuing on with the crew’s post-haul celebration as if nothing was wrong. At some point, Sylvain noticed that Felix had gone. Obviously, there weren’t too many places he could have gone, but the feeling that he’d unwittingly driven him away sat heavily in his stomach.</p><p>When Sylvain returned to his quarters as the festivities were beginning to die down, the mystery of where Felix had wandered off to solved itself; at some point, he’d returned to his cot and seemingly gone to bed, the shackle already locked around his ankle. Sylvain stood a while and watched the way his chest rose and fell evenly. His back was to Sylvain, and he was curled tight around himself under the thin blanket they’d given him, but the hard lines of his face were smoothed with sleep, his hair untied and splayed around him in a chaotic tangle. Unable to help himself, Sylvain reached down and gently swept a strand from the man’s face, tucking it behind his ear.</p><p>It was just as silky as it looked. Sylvain felt like he could have spent hours just stroking it.</p><p>But obviously he couldn’t, and instead, he went to bed.</p><p> </p><p>~OoO~</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Garreg Mach was boring.</em>
</p><p><em> Obviously, Sylvain hadn’t expected studying the tenants of the Church of Seiros to be particularly exciting, but he’d thought at least there would be </em>something <em>fun to do. The monastery itself was ancient and massive, and there were lots of neat places and underground passages to explore – if the old people who lived and worked at the monastery actually him explore. Sylvain spent a lot of time getting scolded for going places he wasn’t supposed to be, to the extent of getting the threat of being sent home early if he couldn’t behave himself. That was the last thing he wanted, of course, and </em><em>he tried very hard to behave.</em></p><p><em> But Sylvain often found himself alone, and that wasn’t conductive to keeping out of trouble, either. There were plenty of other noble or noble-adjacent kids on the island, but most of them were a lot older than Sylvain; fifteen-, sixteen-, and seventeen-year-olds didn’t didn’t want to play with, or </em>babysit<em> as they liked to call it, a little kid like Sylvain.</em></p><p>
  <em> So, apparently, no matter where Sylvain was, he was just doomed to be lonely and excluded. Go figure.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Sylvain had been at Garreg Mach for nearly three weeks, and the weather had finally changed from the gray and chill of late spring into the warm bluster of summer. Sylvain didn’t particularly like the heat; Gautier was the northern-most island in the Fódlan archipelago, and tended to be a bit more dreary and cool than many more southern islands. He didn’t like being sticky with sweat.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> He was lounging under the shade of a tree, enjoying the salty breeze that blew off the sea when he heard it. Sobbing. He sat up slowly, listening. Someone was crying, and curiosity drew Sylvain to follow the sound.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Sitting partially obscured at the base of a well-manicured hedge was what looked like a young girl with long dark hair, legs drawn up to her chest and face buried in her arms atop her knees. Sylvain approached slowly, unsure if he should get involved. But a gentleman was supposed to help girls in need, and he wanted to be a gentleman some day.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Are you alright?” he asked slowly. The girl lifted her head just a little. Amber eyes reddened from crying peeked up at him. Slowly, she shook her head. Sylvain sat down next to her, feeling like he was trying to calm a skittish animal. “What’s wrong?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I want Glenn,” she sniffled.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Who’s Glenn?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “My big brother.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Oh.” Sylvain couldn’t imagine ever crying over his brother, but he doubted most brothers were as big of jerks as Miklan. If the girl was so upset, this Glenn guy must have been a pretty good brother. “Is he at the monastery?” The girl shook her head again. “Well… maybe you could write him a letter? I can help you, if you want. I’m really good at writing.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The girl lifted her head more, wiping her tears with the back of a hand. “I know how to write,” she huffed, indignant. “I’m not a baby.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “How old are you?” Sylvain wondered.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Eight.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Sylvain smiled a little. And he thought he’d been the youngest kid there. “Well, I’m ten, so I’m better at it than you are.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em> The girl scowled at him. “That’s not how it works, dummy.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Is too. And, I’m older, so that means I’m right.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “It does not.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Well, that’s what my brother always says, and if I argue…” Sylvain’s voice faltered, thinking of all the times Miklan hit him just for talking back or looking at him wrong or even simply being in the same room, and decided not to finish that thought. “Anyway, my name’s Sylvain. What’s yours?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Felix.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Sylvain blinked. “But Felix is a boy’s name.”</em>
</p><p><em> Felix’s cheeks flushed bright red. “Of course it’s a boy’s name. I</em> am <em>a boy, idiot."</em></p><p>
  <em> “Are you sure?” Sylvain couldn’t stop himself from asking. “You’re too pretty to be a boy.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Felix snorted, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. “And you’re too stupid to be older than me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em> And, somehow, that was how Sylvain managed to make his very first friend.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>~OoO~</p><p> </p><p>Felix pretended he didn’t remember what happened when he woke up the next morning, and Sylvain didn’t bring it up, all easy smiles and a safely maintained distance of at least five feet at all times. While relieved, something akin to disappointment – as ridiculous as that was – gnawed at his stomach. And maybe he was imagining the wistful look in Sylvain’s eyes when Felix spared him a glance and caught the captain staring, just for a second until he realized he’d been caught and averted his gaze.</p><p>He tried not to dwell on it too much as the days passed in a blur of monotonous sea and sky. It didn’t take long for him to resign to the idea that he was, in fact, attracted to Sylvain, as stupid as that was. An asshole pirate kidnapped him, after all. Why did it have to be a <em>handsome</em> asshole pirate? Why couldn’t he have been the stereotypical pirate, one with nasty rotten teeth and a gnarled beard and jaundice who smelled like he’d never heard of the concept of soap? It would have been much easier to be disgusted and disdainful and full of spite for the man if he looked like a proper pirate was supposed to. And he certainly wouldn’t have been attracted to a man like that.</p><p>So what could he do besides try and keep his distance from the bastard at any opportunity? Attractive he may have been, but that didn’t mean Felix was any more inclined to sleep with him than a hypothetical stereotypically gross pirate (or so he tried very hard to convince himself). While he supposed he could have demanded to sleep elsewhere, Sylvain probably would have agreed, his pride stopped him. He didn’t want to give Sylvain the satisfaction of admitting he couldn’t handle falling asleep across the room from a man who made his stomach flutter with each flirty smile and cocky wink, so he endured it each night.</p><p>During the day, though, he spent as much time away from the captain as possible without seeming too obvious about it. It wasn’t a massive ship by any stretch of the imagination, so of course it was impossible to avoid him indefinitely, but Felix made a good attempt at it. He sat out of the way on a crate in the galley with Ashe, discussing books and food. The cook was always so bubbly and animated and kind, he almost made Felix forget he was a prisoner at times.</p><p>He played cards and dice with Raphael and Caspar when they had some down time. They didn’t mind that he didn’t have money to bet and let him play just for the fun of it. Sometimes they would convince Lorenz or Linhardt to join them for a few hands. Lorenz would get frustrated once he hit a losing streak and would accuse them of cheating before leaving in indignation, and Linhardt would lose interest and fall asleep at the table.</p><p>Somehow, if he Felix found himself in Hilda’s company, she would manage to needle him into doing her bidding, just as she managed to with everyone else. Felix would huff away to carry out the task she asked of him, getting halfway to wherever he was headed before he realized what had happened, cursing himself for being taken by her trickery once again. On one particular day, he found himself in the cabin she shared with Lorenz, searching for her flask. The room was, as expected, neat and tidy (he wondered if she pestered Lorenz into cleaning it for the both of them, or if she actually helped keep her space organized), and he found it with ease in the small chest at the foot of her bed.</p><p>He couldn’t help but stop and admire it. It was lovely, made of silver with expert craftsmanship. The crest of House Goneril of the Alliance was etched into one side, and he would have assumed it was plundered off some Alliance ship if he hadn’t turned it over and read the inscription in elegant cursive writing on the other side. <em>To my dearest sister, Hilda, all my love goes with you. -Holst</em>. Holst Goneril… heir to the Duchy of Goneril.</p><p>Hilda was of noble birth.</p><p>While the realization was surprising, it also made a strange amount of sense the more Felix thought about it. She held herself with an easy grace, and spoke properly like a lady of high society at times. She was lazy to a fault, claiming to be a delicate flower when called out for it, certainly not the work ethic of someone who grew up, you know, <em>working</em> for a living.</p><p>Not for the first time, Felix considered what it might have taken to drive someone of noble birth to piracy.</p><p>Curious, Felix lingered to snoop just a little further into the room and uncovered a leather-bound journal emblazoned with the name <em>Lorenz Hellman Gloucester</em>. Gloucester. Another noble name from the Alliance. Lorenz coming from a noble family made perfect sense. He carried himself with a pomp and sort of refinement that Felix had already suspected came from a wealthy upbringing. Deciding not to think too much into it, Felix delivered Hilda’s flask to her.</p><p>He’d been aboard <em>Lady Ruin</em> for about two weeks by his count (and a little reminding from Ashe) when he finally saw land rising on the horizon. Felix hadn’t heard mention that they were heading into port and found himself curious.</p><p>As he watched the island growing little by little, he stopped a passing Ignatz on his way up to the helm to speak with Caspar. “Ignatz, can I ask you something?”</p><p>“I don’t see why not,” the man muttered, shifting a little uncomfortably on the balls of his feet. He was a quiet man who spoke very little to Felix, always seeming nervous around him. Felix wondered if it was out of fear that Felix might decide to attack an enemy pirate, or guilt that they were holding him prisoner.</p><p>“What port are we bound for?” He nodded toward the landmass ahead of them for emphasis.</p><p>Ignatz blinked, apparently relieved that it was such a simple request. “Oh, that’s Riegan. We’ll be pulling into Derdriu in a few hours.”</p><p>When Felix didn’t respond, Ignatz left him, which was fine by Felix. He stared at the island of Riegan, home of the Alliance’s capital city Derdriu. A person could easily get lost in a city that large, get swallowed up in a crowd. If he could sneak off the ship, he could disappear.</p><p>He could escape.</p><p> </p><p>~OoO~</p><p> </p><p>A knock on the door drew Rodrigue from his paperwork, the scratch of his quill stilling on the page. “Enter.”</p><p>“Pardon me, Your Grace,” a young serving girl named Heather said as she pushed the door open, dipping into a quick, respectful curtsy. “You have a visitor.”</p><p>Rodrigue sat down his quill, sitting up in his chair. “Who might that be?”</p><p>“Captain Shay from <em>The Aegis</em>, Your Grace. He says it is very urgent.”</p><p>His brow furrowed. <em>The Aegis </em>should have been nearly to Enbarr, not back to Fraldarius. And if it was urgent, it must have meant something had gone amiss. “Send him in.”</p><p>“Yes, Your Grace.”</p><p>She disappeared out the door, returning with a very distraught-looking Captain Shay a moment later. With another curtsy, she left them, shutting the door behind her. “Your Grace,” the captain greeted, dipping his head in a small bow. “I have bad news.”</p><p>Rodrigue sighed. As he expected. “What’s happened?”</p><p>“We were waylaid by a pirate ship, sir.” That was unfortunate. “They-”</p><p>“I assume they absconded with the cargo.”</p><p>“Er… yes, sir, they did. They left us only enough supplies to return to port. But, sir-”</p><p>“It’s unfortunate, but these things happen, I suppose.” He shook his head. That was what marine insurance was for, after all. The trading company would survive the loss. “You’re dismissed.”</p><p>“But, Your Grace, your-”</p><p>“Dismissed,” he repeated. He had much paperwork to finish. Captain Shay hesitated. “While you’re here, though, did my son return to the estate with you, or is he still in the city?”</p><p>“That’s what I’ve been trying to say,” the captain huffed, exasperated. Rodrigue arched an eyebrow, not appreciating the man’s tone. “I’m sorry, Your Grace, but the young lord was taken by the pirates as well.”</p><p>For a moment, the words failed to register in Rodrigue’s mind. He stared blankly at the man in front of him. “My son’s been taken by pirates.”</p><p>“Yes, sir.”</p><p>“Why didn’t you lead with that?” he snapped, slamming a hand down on the desk that made the man jump.</p><p>“I tried, but you kept interrupting.” The man seemed to shrink under the ice in Rodrigue’s eyes. “My apologies, Your Grace. The pirates’ captain said we are to meet in a tavern named the Whirlpool on the island of Katra on the first of the Blue Sea Moon. They demanded fifty-thousand gold be delivered to them in exchange for his release.”</p><p>“I see.” He was silent for a long moment, considering the captain’s story. “This pirate captain. Tell me about him.”</p><p>Captain Shay rubbed the back of his neck, a chapped lip caught between his lip as he thought. “He was a young fellow, probably about the young lord’s age, really charismatic and well-kept, and he had red hair.”</p><p>“Red hair…” he muttered.</p><p>“Yes, sir. I don’t know how, but he seemed to recognize the young lord. Knew who he was as soon as he saw him.”</p><p>That was concerning, but hardly the most pressing detail. “Thank you, Captain Shay. That will be all.”</p><p>“Yes, sir. I’ll restock on supplies and be ready to head for Katra by the week’s end.”</p><p>“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Rodrigue told him flatly.</p><p>The captain’s brow furrowed. “Sir?”</p><p>“You failed to protect my son once already,” he reminded the man with a dry stare that made the man shift on his feet, “do you honestly expect me to entrust you with his retrieval?” Shay hung his head. “No, I will rely on someone far more competent for this. You’re dismissed.”</p><p>“…Yes, sir.” He turned and left, letting another serving girl show him out.</p><p>“Heather,” Rodrigue called once Captain Shay was gone. She reappeared with another curtsy. “Send word to my brother immediately. I require his help.”</p><p>“Right away, Your Grace.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>CW: There's some language near the end that implies/references homophobia.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Felix watched quietly as the crew bustled to dock the ship. It was a bright, sunny day over Derdriu, the waves calm as they headed into the thriving port city. Felix had been to the Alliance capital a handful of times during his punishments from his father, but the city was breathtaking every time, without fail. The water in the harbor was pristine, leading to the crescent-shaped white sand shore, and the intricately laid out docks had space for nearly fifty ships, though usual traffic generally put it at half capacity at any given time.</p><p>Then there was the city itself beyond. Derdriu, the Aquatic Capital, an apt name. Nearly a third of the city was built on the backs of massive stone structures that were set right into the water itself, giving it the appearance of floating. He knew, just out of sight behind the low row of dock-side buildings was the city’s famed marketplace, boasting a plethora of trade goods from across Fódlan and beyond, a sprawling labyrinth of merchant stalls.</p><p>And, to be honest, that was a good word for the city as a whole as well: labyrinthine. Just a few short decades ago, the port city had been small until it established itself as a major trade hub. As business swelled, so had the city and its population, forcing the city to spread out haphazardly to accommodate until it became the mess of winding streets that Felix stared at from the deck of <em>Lady Ruin</em>.</p><p>Simply put, if there was any city that Felix could disappear in, it was Derdriu.</p><p>Felix watched as Lorenz handled business with the wharf master, presented – perhaps forged – documents, and graciously stepped aside to let the customs inspector come aboard. He couldn’t help but wonder if anyone was paying enough attention to him that they would notice if he tried to get close to the inspector, to plead for help. Feigning an uninterested look, Felix took a look around. Unsurprisingly, Hilda, who was standing at the railing of the quarterdeck above, was watching him like a hawk and not even trying to hide that fact.</p><p>Resigned, he watched the customs inspector come and go, seemingly satisfied with the results of his inspection. And, if he wasn’t mistaken, he caught the glimmer of gold pressed into his palm when Lorenz shook his hand before sending the man on his way. Typical. About as many illegally obtained goods passed through Derdriu as legal ones. It wasn’t much of a secret or a surprise that customs lined their pockets with bribe money.</p><p>Felix considered how he might make it off the ship. Perhaps he could ‘borrow’ an outfit from Ashe when everyone was too busy to watch him (they were close enough in size it wouldn’t look out of place), tie up his hair and find a hat to hide it, and sneak off during the commotion of cargo being unloaded.</p><p>He was so busy thinking through his plan, he didn’t notice Sylvain sidle up to him until the man’s hand clapped down around his shoulder, making him start. Sylvain chuckled low in his throat, pulling him close to his side and preventing Felix from escaping his grasp. “You looked pretty lost in thought,” he teased. “Thinking about how you’re going to escape?”</p><p>“No,” he lied.</p><p>“Very convincing.” Felix didn’t answer, scowling at the deck. “Sorry, buddy, but you’re not getting away from us any time soon.”</p><p>“Gonna chain me to the chair the whole time we’re in port?” he huffed.</p><p>Sylvain rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not. And you <em>really</em> need to let that go. Bitterness is just gonna make you go prematurely gray.” Felix was going to make a snarky remark about his bitterness, but he found himself reminded of his father, always stone-faced and disappointed, with his dark hair threaded with silver, and the comment died on his tongue. “What I <em>am </em>going to do is make sure you always have a babysitter so you don’t think about wandering off and doing something stupid like telling the navy you were kidnapped by pirates.”</p><p>Felix glared at him. “What did I tell you about talking to me like a child?” he snapped.</p><p>“I don’t remember promising I would stop.” He laughed brightly when Felix scowled again. “Anyway, when you’re not with me, you’re with Hilda or Lorenz, and you don’t leave their sight.” Felix sighed. He supposed he should have considered the fact that Sylvain might get the impression he planned to escape; the pirate wasn’t stupid, after all. “I call dibs on first watch.”</p><p>“Of course you do.”</p><p>“Come on,” he said, clapping a heavy hand on Felix’s back and urging him toward the gangplank, “let’s go get something to eat. My treat.”</p><p>Felix let himself be ushered toward the dock, confused that Sylvain was <em>actually</em> letting him off the ship. If he waited, if he bid his time well, he might just have a shot at slipping into a crowd and disappearing after all.</p><p>Sylvain kept Felix at his side like the parent of a particularly troublesome child who was liable to wander off if they weren’t held by the hand at all times, though thankfully he did <em>not</em> force Felix to actually hold his hand. As frustrating as it was, Felix just watched and waited, keeping his eyes on any passing officers in the vibrant gold and white coats of the Alliance navy, or the black coats with yellow sashes that signified the constabulary of Derdriu, in case he got his chance to slip away.</p><p>Sylvain led him to a tavern that sat near the cusp between the wealthier part of the mercantile district and one of the lower class residential areas. The building was small and squat, with window boxes full of well-tended flowers. A sign hung above the door, the name <em>Lamine </em>written in delicate cursive script.</p><p>It wasn’t long after noon when they stepped through the door. The tavern bustled with patrons who seemed to have a similar idea of getting lunch. A lovely, rich aroma wafted through the air as they made their way to the counter at the back, a hearty stew perhaps. Whatever it was, it made Felix’s mouth water. Ashe’s food was nothing to scoff at, especially given the limited ingredients and kitchen implements available on a ship, but there was only so much he could do. His food was palatable, certainly better than some of the fare fed to him aboard his father’s ships, but Felix hadn’t realized how much he missed real food cooked in a real kitchen made from fresh ingredients until that moment.</p><p>A sweet-looking woman stood behind the counter, humming to herself as she wiped clean a tankard with a rag. Her honey blonde hair was cut in a short bob, and she was draped in a comfy looking shawl that Felix had no doubt was handmade. She smiled when Sylvain stopped in front of her, leaning on the counter with a dashing smirk.</p><p>“You look lovely as ever, Mercedes,” he told her, sounding very earnest, and earning a soft laugh from her.</p><p>“What brings you by, Sylvain?” she wondered. Her voice was soft and high, a little breathy. “It’s been months since you’ve stopped by.”</p><p>“Aw, you know I can’t resist coming to see my best girl whenever I dock in Derdriu.”</p><p>She giggled behind her hand before her eyes fell on Felix. “Oh, I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” she mused, flashing him a kind smile. “Are you a new member of Sylvain’s crew?”</p><p>“Eh, something like that,” Sylvain dismissed before Felix could answer.</p><p>“I’m Mercedes,” the woman introduced herself. “It’s lovely to meet you.”</p><p>“Felix,” he sighed.</p><p>“Fe,” Sylvain said, as if he had any right to call Felix that, “why don’t you go find us somewhere to sit while I wait for the food, alright?”</p><p>Felix stared at him, incredulous. Was… was he actually that stupid? Was he really going to let Felix wander away just because he wanted to… what? Flirt with Mercedes? But who was Felix to look a gift horse in the mouth? “Alright.”</p><p>He turned away and scanned the room. It would be too obvious if he bolted for the door, and as he idled slowly through the room, he was very acutely aware of the way Sylvain was casting glances over his shoulder every now and again, keeping an eye on him.</p><p>He would have to be careful about how he played this, and be quick about it. He regarded each of the patrons around him quickly. There was a constable at a table in one corner, and a group of three Alliance naval officers at a table to his left. Sylvain would never let him get close to anyone in uniform. But maybe if he picked another one of the patrons, someone inconspicuous…</p><p>Her back was to him when he noticed her. Perhaps that was why he didn’t recognize her when they first walked in. But the thick braid of straw colored hair was unmistakable. His breath stilled in his chest. It was as if the goddess had blessed him herself.</p><p>It had been four years since Felix had seen Ingrid, and he walked quickly to her table, heart drumming an anxious beat. “Ingrid,” he muttered, slinking in the chair next to her and making her jump. “You have to help me.”</p><p>She blinked, eyes confused and suspicious for a moment before recognition washed over her. “Felix!” She threw her arms around him.</p><p>“Shh!” he hissed. “Keep your voice down. I need your help.”</p><p>“What are you doing here?”</p><p>“I was kidnapped by pirates. They’re trying to ransom me to my father.”</p><p>Her brow furrowed. “Are you serious?”</p><p>He opened his mouth to speak. “Oh, he’s very serious,” Sylvain’s voice, silky and smooth, purred from behind him, making Felix’s blood run cold.</p><p>Ingrid rounded on Sylvain, and for a moment, Felix though she was going to make a scene, maybe enough to get the naval officers involved. But as she looked up at him, a smile split across her lips. “Oh, Sylvain! You’re here too!”</p><p>Felix felt his stomach drop to his boots. They knew each other, and worse, she seemed to be on friendly terms with him. Of course. Smirking like he knew he’d won, Sylvain sat down across from them, pushing a bowl of stew over to Felix along with a tankard of ale before digging into his own.</p><p>“That was a really nice try, Felix,” he allowed as Felix bitterly started shoveling his food into his mouth. “I have to admit, I had no idea you knew Ingrid. Small world.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah,” Ingrid agreed, tossing an arm over Felix’s shoulder. “We go way back. Once upon a time, I was engaged to his brother.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“Mm-hmm.” Felix glared at her. “What?”</p><p>“Are you forgetting the part where I told you he <em>kidnapped </em>me?” he snapped.</p><p>She glanced over at Sylvain, eyebrow arched. “Did you really?”</p><p>“Guilty as charged,” he laughed, shrugging his shoulders lightly. “Gonna turn me in?”</p><p>She considered it for a moment, regarding Felix as if she was appraising livestock. “You don’t look beat up and he just bought you lunch, so I’m going to assume he’s treating you alright.” She took a swig of her ale. “I haven’t been contracted to capture Sylvain, so it’s really not my place to get involved.”</p><p>Felix felt like his mouth was full of ash as he stared at her. “What kind of naval officer are you?” he spat, almost regretting it when he saw the hurt on her face. “What does it matter if he’s ‘treating me alright?’ He still kidnapped me, he’s still trying to ransom me, and he’ll still kill me if he doesn’t get his money.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes. “Sylvain is <em>not</em> going to kill you.”</p><p>“That’s not what he said when his crew looted my father’s ship.”</p><p>“Felix,” she said evenly, “tell me: when that happened, did anyone die?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Was there any bloodshed?”</p><p>“Not a single drop,” Sylvain interjected cheerily.</p><p>“It’s just not his style,” she concluded. “If he threatened your life, it was just to get your father’s crew to take him seriously. A bluff.”</p><p>He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “So what? He’s a pirate who basically just admitted to robbing my father’s ship. As a naval officer-”</p><p>She cut him off with a sharp look. “First of all, there are far worse pirates out there than Sylvain. He’s pretty low on the priority list. Second, I’m not a naval officer. Not anymore.”</p><p>“But you were sailing under Dimitri.”</p><p>“That was four years ago, Felix.” She took another long swig of her alcohol, staring forlornly down at the table. “A lot changed in that time.” He tried to reconcile that knowledge with the girl who’d once been his friend. The girl who’d been engaged to Glenn and who wanted nothing more than to live up to his ideals after his death.</p><p>“What happened?”</p><p>She was silent for a long moment, long enough that Felix thought she might not answer. “I learned some hard truths, that not everything was as black and white as it seemed. I realized I couldn’t stay there anymore, and Dimitri helped me get discharged. I’m a privateer under his banner.”</p><p>Privateer. Basically a step removed from full-blown piracy. Ingrid, who was once so dedicated to the ideals of honor and chivalry, sunken so low. Felix felt like his world had flipped upside down.</p><p>“Do you think Glenn would have wanted that?” A dark sadness crept over her face again, and just as before, Felix almost regretted saying it. But, as petty and horrible as it was, in that moment, some small part of him wanted to hurt her, to lash out and make her feel ashamed.</p><p>“Don’t you dare try and tell me what Glenn would have wanted,” she growled, meeting Felix’s eyes with an intense glare he’d never really known her to adopt. “Don’t you dare.” A pregnant silence fell between them.</p><p>Felix wanted to yell and curse his whole shitty situation. But he didn’t. He glanced back at Sylvain, who was picking at his stew while shooting them awkward, uncomfortable glances from under his thick eyelashes. “If you don’t plan to kill me,” he said, changing the topic, “what do you plan to do if my father doesn’t pay?”</p><p>He shrugged, but the tension in his shoulders relaxed some, seemingly thankful for the change in topic. “Dump you off on some dinky little island with a few gold and let you find your own way home.”</p><p>Felix was silent for a moment, letting that revelation sink in. And despite himself, despite everything, Felix laughed.</p><p> </p><p>~OoO~</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <b>A letter sent three years ago to Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd. The parchment is thick, expensive stock, and it is yellowed with age where it sits tucked in a locked desk drawer in the king’s study. The envelope is addressed from a Miguel Chaplin, a person who does not exist. The letter reads as follows:</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Dima,</em>
</p><p>
  <em> I hope this letter finds you well and in a timely manner. I had to wait until after my father departed before I could send it. It may arrive after him, though it should hopefully arrive well before the big day. If not, I’m sorry it didn’t reach you in time.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> I wish I could be with you to celebrate, but my father forbade me from coming. You know how he is. He said he didn’t want me to ‘taint’ your coronation with my ‘perverse nature.’ Absolute horse shit, of course, but those are the waters.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I know I’ve done a horrible job of writing to you over the past four years, but the old man hasn’t made it easy for me. I can’t write a single letter without him reading it before it’s sent, and if he suspects even the slightest bit that I’m writing to you, he’ll burn it without a second thought. He rarely leaves long enough for me to sneak a letter out, and it became far more hassle than it’s worth.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> That’s not to say I think you’re not worth the hassle, of course. But three years is such a long time to hold a candle for something that we always knew was going to burn out sooner or later. And, based on the scant couple of letters of yours that have managed to reach me, I would assume you feel the same.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Be that as it may, you’re still my friend. I should be with you on your coronation day. All I can say is that I know you will be a great king, like your father before you. I know you still bear the sorrow of loss, even all these years later; I know because sometime it feels as if Glenn’s death is a wound that will never close. It may not be much comfort coming from the lips of the living – and who am I to speak for the dead? – but they would be proud of the man you are today. I am.</em>
</p><p><em> Fuck. This got sappy. Sorry about that. You know I’m awful with words, so I spent an embarrassingly long time rewriting this. Maybe just forget everything that came above this, because I’m sure as hell not going to rewrite it </em>again<em>. </em></p><p>
  <em> All this bullshit to say… congratulations and good luck.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yours,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Felix</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>CW: depictions of a hanging/public execution (except it doesn't really happen)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The three of them chatted and drank a while longer, some of the tension seemingly passed. Eventually, their cups ran dry and Sylvain offered to go up to the bar and get another round. No sooner did he get out of earshot before Ingrid turned to Felix, stone-faced and serious, leaning in conspiratorially.</p><p>“Alright, I think I’ve got a plan.”</p><p>He stared, confused. “A plan?”</p><p>“You said you needed help.”</p><p>“I thought you said I wasn’t in danger.”</p><p>She sighed, eyes darting over to where Sylvain still stood at the bar, waiting on Mercedes to finish helping another customer. “You’re not, but you asked for my help.”</p><p>“Then what was all that before?” he huffed, indignant.</p><p>She gave him a withering look. “What, did you really think I was going to make a scene right in front of the guy who kidnapped you? I’m not that stupid, Felix.”</p><p>Felix felt a bit like he was getting whiplash, being pulled in so many different directions so quickly, but he held his tongue. “I thought Sylvain’s you’re friend.”</p><p>“He is.” Something in her tone was both sad and resolved, like she had fought her own internal battle to arrive at the decision she made. “But you’re my friend to. Sylvain’s a pirate, good guy or not. He kidnapped you, he can deal with the consequences of getting caught.”</p><p>The consequences of getting caught. Something about that unsettled Felix’s stomach. Laws in the different regions of Fódlan were pretty varied on many issues, but there were some common threads. For example, acts of piracy were almost universally met with death. He actively forced away the mental image of Sylvain being led to the gallows.</p><p>“Alright then, what’s your plan?”</p><p>She muttered it quickly. By the time she finished, Sylvain was heading back with three full mugs of ale and his usual self-sure grin. “Well?” she hissed.</p><p>His mouth felt like it was full of cotton. “Do it.”</p><p>When Sylvain sat down across from them once more, none the wiser of their conversation, they had already slipped back into nonchalance, accepting the alcohol handed over to them. It did nothing to quell the rolling of Felix’s stomach as Ingrid’s plan buzzed in his brain like an irksome bee. She played her part well, finishing her second round and standing as if she had places to be. “I’m heading out tomorrow,” she told Sylvain. “We should all meet up for lunch before I have to go.”</p><p>Sylvain’s smile was bright and genuine, and Felix couldn’t stomach looking at it. “It’s a date.”</p><p>With a soft hand on Felix’s shoulder, Ingrid left. Tomorrow. All he had to do was stick it out that much longer, and he would be a free man once more. And Sylvain… Sylvain would most likely not be.</p><p>He spent the rest of the day simultaneously trying not to think about it and obsessing over it when they returned to <em>Lady Ruin</em>. Back aboard, Sylvain handed him off to Hilda, who he followed like a silent and sullen shadow, to which she complained he was bringing down her mood. When a handsome sailor with brown hair, tan skin, and a lilting Almyran accent shouted for her attention from the dock, Felix was unceremoniously shunted off to Lorenz who didn’t mind his dour mood so much.</p><p>Felix didn’t see Sylvain again until the evening, when the crew amassed on the deck for the pay they received from selling his father’s stolen goods. Based on chatter from the crew, Felix guessed it had been a while since decent pay filled their pockets, and many of the crew immediately ran off to spend some of their newfound wealth.</p><p>Felix went to bed early, though he was still painfully awake when he heard Sylvain come in for the night. He pretended to be asleep, breathing as deeply and evenly as he could, very aware of the way Sylvain stood over him, apparently just staring. He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a gentle, warm hand press against his cheek. Only the goddess knew how he didn’t startle. Sylvain’s hand was large and rough with callous and Felix nearly leaned into the touch on instinct. He felt like his skin might ignite and wondered if Sylvain could feel it too.</p><p>With a heavy sigh, the warmth of the hand disappeared and he could hear Sylvain turn away. A shiver ran down Felix’s spine. He heard the rustle of fabric as Sylvain shed his shirt and climbed into his own bed, the gap between them feeling like it could have spanned the ocean, not just the small width of the room. It wasn’t long before Sylvain’s soft snores filled room over the background noise of water and creaking planks of wood. The sound was now familiar and almost comforting.</p><p>It didn’t help Felix fall asleep, however. He laid awake long into the night until sheer exhaustion washed over him and dragged him down into the dark depths of unconsciousness and forced a bitter dream upon him.</p><p>
  <em>Felix was no stranger to the sight of public executions. They were very popular in Faerghus, a macabre spectacle for the curious and judgmental masses. For the longest time, Felix never understood the appeal. Death put a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he couldn’t fathom that it might have been different for other people. As he grew older, listened to the gossip and the excitement that followed an execution, he came to the conclusion that many people just liked the thrill of watching another human die, but lacked the stomach to do it themselves. All the better if they could justify the death with morality and leave with a clear conscience and a sated desire for the carnage.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Felix was never one such person.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> He opened his eyes to find himself in a box of gray stone walls. The sky overhead was slate, angry and threatening to let loose a violent maelstrom. There were no windows or doors in the walls, and the walls seemed to stretch up infinitely high, far too tall to climb. No way in and no way out.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> In the center of the box stood the only thing that wasn’t gray; a gallows with a single hanging noose, a stage to a show which Felix, it seemed, had earned a front-row ticket to see. He couldn’t see the stairs on the other side, but he could hear the thunderous footsteps of someone being led up to their death. Each one rang out loud and slow until a mop of red hair crested over the top into view.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Felix’s stomach sank into his shoes as Sylvain was led to a stop in front of the noose. His arms were bound in front of him, and though he was at least fifty feet away, Felix could see his eyes perfectly clear: resigned and sad.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> The overwhelming feeling that it was all Felix’s fault clawed in his chest, and he tried to call out for the faceless hangman to stop, but he found his mouth full and his voice muffled. In that moment, he realized he was once again chained to the chair from Sylvain’s quarters, mouth gagged, hands bound behind his back, and ankles shackled to the legs of the chair.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> He squirmed and fought against his binds, but it was useless. They were inescapable. He looked over his shoulder, hoping to see someone who might help him, who might help Sylvain. Standing in even rows behind him were the entirety of Sylvain’s crew, though they made no move to stop what was happening. They didn’t acknowledge Felix’s presence, just stared blankly up at their captain.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> As if by magnetic force, Felix felt his eyes drawn back toward the gallows, just in time to watch the hangman slip the noose over Sylvain’s neck. Felix’s muffled cries fell on deaf ears as the hangman walked toward the lever, wrapping a meaty fist around it.</em>
</p><p><em> Sylvain was staring at Felix, his eyes boring into his very soul it seemed. There was no blame in them, though there should have been, just a profound sadness that made Felix feel like his heart was being rent in two. And of course, because he was Sylvain, he flashed a shallow smile, a silent </em>it’s okay<em>. A lie.</em></p><p>
  <em> The hangman pulled the lever.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Sylvain fell as if time had slowed to a crawl, his plunge stretching on for eternity. Felix screamed until his throat felt raw. Just as the rope was about to pull taut and end Sylvain’s life-</em>
</p><p>Felix woke with a gasp, jerking upright. His skin was clammy with sweat, clothes sticking uncomfortably to him. It took him a moment to realize that his cheeks were wet with tears, tears that still streamed silently. He hadn’t cried since he was a child.</p><p>His sudden jerking had rattled the chain, and Sylvain’s snores cut off abruptly, the other man propping himself up. “Felix?” he muttered, voice thick with sleep. Alive. “What’s wrong? What happened?”</p><p>“Nothing,” Felix managed.</p><p>“Doesn’t sound like nothing.”</p><p>He swallowed hard. “Just… Just a bad dream.”</p><p>Sylvain was silent for a moment. “Do you want to tell me about it?” There was something so earnest there and it wrapped painfully around Felix’s chest.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Alright… If you need anything, I’m right here, okay?”</p><p>It was a comfort Felix didn’t deserve and didn’t know what to do with. “Yeah.” He watched out of the corner of his eye as the shadow of Sylvain slowly lowered itself back down, and a moment later, Felix numbly followed suit. It took longer than usual for Sylvain’s snores to return.</p><p>He tried not to think about Sylvain. Specifically, he tried not to think about the heat that never failed to coil in his stomach when he watched Sylvain work or the way his heart stupidly fluttered when he was met with the man’s dopey smile. He tried not to think about how his hands had felt on his back the night the crew had celebrated – not to mention how they had felt on his face just hours before – and how he couldn’t help but wonder what they would feel like other places.</p><p>Then he tried not to think about what the dream meant, what it implied. He tried not to think at all about how he realized very suddenly that no matter what Sylvain had done to him personally, he didn’t deserve to die for it. He tried not to think about how Ingrid’s plan would almost certainly end in Sylvain’s arrest, which would almost certainly end in Felix’s father demanding Sylvain be tried in Faerghus’ court – as <em>The Aegis</em> had been attacked in Faerghus waters, after all – and how he had enough pull to ensure the book was thrown at Sylvain, and that Felix’s nightmare would come to life. And he tried not to think about how it would be all his fault.</p><p>Felix didn’t sleep after that.</p><p> </p><p>~OoO~</p><p> </p><p>Ever since Ingrid had left them the day before, Sylvain couldn’t help but notice as he kept an eye on his captive, Felix had been jumpy. He walked with slumped shoulders and arms crossed tight over his chest like he was trying to fold in on himself. His lips were bitten raw. He was used to Felix’s sullen scowling and haughty silence, but all of that was gone, replaced by some anxiety.</p><p>Sylvain wondered if, maybe, he was upset that his plea for Ingrid to save him had fallen on deaf ears. Not for the first time, Sylvain felt the stirrings of guilt blooming in his stomach, and he genuinely considered letting Felix go for a time, turning his back long enough that Felix would see an opening to run and take it. Sylvain wouldn’t look for him and wouldn’t bother him anymore.</p><p>The selfish part of Sylvain pretended nothing was wrong.</p><p>But there was very clearly something wrong. It was impossible to ignore once he woke up bright and early the next morning, not too long after Felix’s ‘bad dream’ had woken both of them. Felix was already sitting upright, back leaning against the wall, staring blankly out the window. The dark shadows under his eyes were more prominent than ever against his pale skin, and Sylvain would bet anything Felix hadn’t gotten another wink of sleep after waking up.</p><p>He didn’t look up when Sylvain stood, when he dressed, when he crossed over to unlock the shackle from his ankle. “Are you alright?” Sylvain asked softly. His shoulders moved ever so slightly in a shrug, and Sylvain had to fight the urge to tuck back the stray locks of hair that were hanging in front of Felix’s eyes. “I’ll listen if you want to tell me what’s on your mind.” A subtle shake of his head.</p><p>Sylvain didn’t know what to do, felt helpless. He slipped out of the cabin without a word, slinking down to the galley and grabbing some breakfast courtesy of a sleepy Ashe. Felix was still sitting in the same spot when he returned.</p><p>“I brought you something to eat.”</p><p>“Not hungry.”</p><p>Sylvain sat it down by the cot anyway. “Why don’t you try to get some more sleep,” he prompted. This drew Felix’s eyes, blank and dull with fatigue. “Sleep. Eat when you wake up again. I’ll come get you later so we can go see Ingrid, okay?”</p><p>Felix stared down at his lap for a moment, looking positively wretched and miserable, before he just shrugged and sank back down and let his eyes fall closed. Not feeling any better about it, Sylvain left to let him rest.</p><p>He tried to focus on work that needed done, but his mind kept wandering back to Felix, and each time the guilt set in anew. It had been horrible of him to kidnap Felix, he was acutely aware of that fact. Once upon a time, no matter how briefly and whether Felix remembered or not, they had been friends. He’d been stupid to decide that impulsively capturing and holding someone against their will had been the way to go about reconnecting with him, but when he’d seen Felix again after all those years, all those old feelings of being abandoned by the first person he’d ever truly bonded with returned – though the abandonment hadn’t been Felix’s fault – and impulse won out over critical thought.</p><p>And, as Hilda had accused him, thinking a bit too much with his dick.</p><p>Letting Felix go would be the right thing to do, he decided. No matter how much it would hurt to watch him go. He would let him leave with Ingrid and hope that he hadn’t traumatized him too much and just be content with clearing his conscience even though it meant he’d never see Felix again.</p><p>What was that saying? If you love something, let it go?</p><p>Sylvain wasn’t sure he would go as far as to say he loved Felix; he barely knew Felix. But seeing Felix in the state he was in hurt more than the thought of losing him.</p><p>When Sylvain returned to get Felix for lunch, he found the man already sitting upright, pulling on his boots. He looked a little better, the dark circles closer to normal than they had been. The numb, blank look he’d been wearing while dejectedly staring out the window was replaced by something hard and stony, which Sylvain supposed was an improvement. The plate of food still sat untouched where Sylvain had left it.</p><p>“You ready to go?”</p><p>“Yeah.” He stood and headed for the door without checking to see if Sylvain was following after him. They made their way in silence through the sunny streets of Derdriu toward Lamine, the tension between them feeling like electricity.</p><p>Ingrid hadn’t yet arrived when they stepped inside, greeted by the warm smell of roast and vegetables, and they took a seat at the same table they’d used the day before. Mercedes brought them food and drink, and they both picked at their meal, neither speaking. Felix’s eyes stared unwavering at the door. Sylvain’s eyes stared unwavering at Felix.</p><p>When Felix’s shoulders went tense, face clouding over with something dark, he spared a glance at the door. Ingrid had just pushed her way inside, looking just as grim-faced as Felix. He turned back to his companion, brow furrowed, just about to ask if something was wrong between them when he saw that Felix was pale and shaking. “Felix? Are you alright?” He didn’t answer, just stared pointedly at Ingrid.</p><p>Ingrid hadn’t moved from the door, Sylvain realized when he looked back over to her. Three Alliance naval officers stepped in behind her, and a pit formed in Sylvain’s stomach. Is that what this was about? But Ingrid’s grim face had gone to confusion, eyes swiftly between the two of them before rounding on the officers.</p><p>Sylvain turned back to Felix, wary. Felix had a hand clapped over his mouth, eyes watering, and he looked like he was going to puke. Accusations burned on his lips. But Felix bolted toward the kitchen door, shoving past Mercedes who nearly dropped the plates of food she was carrying. Sylvain booked it after him, shooting a quick apology to Mercedes as he passed. He reached the kitchen just in time to see Felix slip through the back door.</p><p>By the time he passed through the door Felix had left open in his haste, he found the dark-haired man hunched over in the alley between the buildings, an arm braced against the wall as he retched and emptied what little food was in his stomach.</p><p>All the anger and accusations that sat heavy in Sylvain’s chest evaporated at the sight, and he approached Felix slowly. Felix didn’t protest – or couldn’t – when he gathered the dark strands of hair that hung loose around his shoulders, holding them back as the man continued to heave. He rubbed his back gently, soothing him through his sickness. His shirt was soaked through with clammy sweat, and his whole frame shuddered and shook like a leaf.</p><p>He wondered if Felix had been anxious because he was sick, or sick because he was anxious. But that didn’t matter in that moment.</p><p>He heard soft footsteps behind him, and spared only a quick glance to see Ingrid approaching slowly, her face drawn down with worry. There were no officers behind her, so he assumed whatever she’d said to them before Felix ran out had been to send them away. “Felix? Are you okay?”</p><p>Felix panted. His heaving had stopped, and he spat on the ground to get the left over bile out of his mouth before pushing himself upright with trembling legs, unabashedly leaning on Sylvain for support. “Yeah,” he managed, voice rough and shaky. The two of them shared a knowing look for a moment, and Sylvain pretended he didn’t see. “I… I think I should go lay down.” He peeked up at Sylvain through his thick, dark lashes. “Will you help me back to the ship?”</p><p>Sylvain swallowed hard, knowing that any bit of anger or resentment at Felix that might have been stubbornly clinging on had shriveled up and died with just that one question. He sounded so weak, so vulnerable in that moment, how could he deny him? “Of course.”</p><p>Ingrid followed behind like a scolded dog as they headed back to <em>Lady Ruin</em>. She waited patiently with Felix while Sylvain fetched Linhardt, who promptly ushered both of them out while he examined his patient, leaving them alone with each other.</p><p>They both knew what they knew.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she said softly.</p><p>“It’s fine.”</p><p>“He asked for my help.” It was a solid defense, of course. “I couldn’t just leave him.”</p><p>“I said it’s fine.”</p><p>“It’s not like I wanted you to get arrested.”</p><p>“I know. Just drop it.” She did, and silence consumed them once more. It felt like an eternity before Linhardt stepped out of the room, yawning. “Well?”</p><p>“He’ll be fine,” he reported dully. “Probably just something he ate.” Probably. Linhardt left them with no further fanfare.</p><p>Ingrid hesitated. “Can I talk to him?”</p><p>“Sure.” Sylvain headed toward the deck.</p><p>It wasn’t often Sylvain found himself in a foul mood, but when it happened, the crew didn’t seem to know what to do with him. They typically settled on giving him a wide berth. He leaned against the railing, watching the waves in the distance, watching the way the midday sun glittered over them.</p><p>Logically, rationally, he shouldn’t have been upset. He shouldn’t have felt betrayed. It was a captive doing what a captive was wont to do (attempt to escape and alert the authorities) and Ingrid was doing what she could to help a friend. Sylvain was, after all, in the wrong in this scenario. He was the pirate who kidnapped Felix. He was the bad guy.</p><p>And he was the one who had decided he was going to let Felix leave, had things gone differently. No matter what angle he looked at, there was no point of view that gave him the right to feel bad.</p><p>Unfortunately, the heart is a horribly selfish, illogical, and irrational thing, and Sylvain stewed in his misery. Maybe he would just go have Hilda tell Ingrid to take Felix with her when she left like he’d planned to anyway, and just be done with it all.</p><p>He didn’t get the chance to act on that thought before a soft “hey” from behind pulled him from his sulking. He didn’t look back at Ingrid, and with a sigh, she moved to lean against the railing next to him. “If you’re worried I’m going to try and bring the navy down on you again, I’m not.”</p><p>“Whatever.”</p><p>She sighed again. “About Felix… Well, maybe I shouldn’t be the one telling you this, but he’s not going to, so…” She paused in her rambling, taking a moment to organize her thoughts before she continued. “Felix getting sick didn’t ruin the plan.” Sylvain’s heart flopped painfully, and he finally dared a look over at her. “When I walked in and you looked away from him, he gave me a signal to stop. He couldn’t go through with it. I think he got sick because he felt guilty.”</p><p>“He felt guilty,” he repeated lamely.</p><p>“He said you didn’t deserve that. He said he wouldn’t have been able to forgive himself if he went through with it.” Sylvain didn’t know how to respond. He felt as if his brain had been melted by Ingrid’s words and he wasn’t quite sure if knowing how Felix felt made him feel better or worse. “I just thought you ought to know that.”</p><p>“Thanks,” he muttered.</p><p>She looked like there was more she wanted to say, but with a small shake of her head, she headed off without another word. Logically, he knew he wasn’t really mad at Ingrid, and that some day, once his stupid illogical heart got over the wound it had received, he would forgive her.</p><p>His stupid illogical heart, it seemed, couldn’t stay mad at Felix.</p><p>Felix was sound asleep when Sylvain finally chanced to go back into his quarters, curled up on his side, the hard lines of his face smoothed out in peace. Sylvain didn’t lock the shackle around his ankle before he went to sleep.</p><p>Felix was still there when he woke up, and as they got ready for the day, a silent agreement fell over them: they pretended that yesterday had never happened.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Sylvain sat in the crow’s nest, alone and shivering in the frigid nighttime wind that blustered around him. A sick feeling curdled in his stomach as he stared into the inky void of midnight sea and sky, as if a war was waging in his very chest, fighting to sway his heart.</em>
</p><p>Lady Rosa<em> was like his home. Ever since he earned the rank of first mate under Captain McGreggor on his father’s largest ship, the vessel had become a more welcoming place than the halls he grew up in. He would take the hardships of life at sea over the comforts of his father’s home any day, even if that life was still living firmly under the old man’s thumb.</em></p><p>
  <em>But things had changed, and the very thought of his father set his stomach rolling.</em>
</p><p><em> Sylvain couldn’t exactly jump ship. They were over a week from the nearest port, and his conscience wouldn’t exactly let him leave without doing </em>something,<em> even if he wanted to. But the only </em>something<em>s he could think to do were just asking for trouble. It felt like a no-win situation.</em></p><p>
  <em> He knew he would have supporters among the crew, like the lazy Goneril girl they’d picked up in Remire a few voyages ago after she’d decided to leave home. There was the kindly cook Ashe, and the good-natured crewman Raphael who would be easily swayed to his side. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He knew what he had to do. There was no other option, really. If he failed, he would probably be dragged back to his father and who know what he would do to him. But if he succeeded, he would be no different than Miklan.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> He didn’t know which one was worse.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sylvain sighed and pushed himself up. Come what may, he had a mutiny to stage.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>~OoO~</p><p> </p><p>Over the next couple days, Sylvain was surprised to see how easily Felix acted as if nothing had happened. He still scowled and glared at Sylvain a lot, of course, but he didn’t shirk away as much when Sylvain threw an arm over his shoulder. He shot back biting remarks at Sylvain’s stupid flirting with sly smirks.</p><p>On their last day in Derdriu, Sylvain decided they should have a proper sendoff by getting fabulously drunk at Lamine. They were about four rounds in when Hilda pushed her way through the crowd, her brow furrowed as she sought Sylvain out and elbowed past people toward them.</p><p>“What’s wrong?”</p><p>“<em>The Black Wind </em>just pulled into port,” she said, voice low and serious.</p><p>Sylvain sighed, taking a long drink of his ale. Felix glanced between the two of them, confused. “Is that a problem?”</p><p>“Eh, depends on your definition of problem,” Sylvain dismissed. “The captain is my brother.” Felix cocked his head to the side, waiting for further explanation. “We don’t exactly get along.”</p><p>Felix didn’t look too surprised. “He’s a pirate, too, right?”</p><p>“Right,” Sylvain said slowly, racking his brain to try and remember if he’d mentioned that at some point over the past couple weeks; he was pretty sure he didn’t, though maybe someone else had as it wasn’t exactly a secret among the crew. “Though, I’d prefer not to be lumped into the same category as him.”</p><p>“Why’s that?” Felix asked dryly, amused.</p><p>“Remember the very first question you asked me the first time we talked?” <em>Is this the part where you have your way with me? </em>Based on the bright flush that colored Felix’s cheeks at that, Sylvain guessed he, in fact, did remember, though he didn’t answer. “And I said I wasn’t that kind of guy?” A brisk nod was all Sylvain got. “My brother <em>is </em>that kind of guy.”</p><p>“I figured I’d give you a heads up in case you ran into him,” Hilda added before Felix had the chance to respond to that. “I know he doesn’t drink here, but-”</p><p>“But he knows I drink here,” Sylvain finished before downing the rest of his ale and flagging Mercedes down for another round. “He’ll be here before too long, I’m sure. Thanks for the heads up, Hilda.” She nodded and turned away, sparing just a sympathetic look over her shoulder before she disappeared out the door.</p><p>Just as Sylvain predicted, about an hour later, an imposing figure with an unkempt mane of bright red hair pushed through the door. Miklan Gautier stood about a head over everyone else, and unlike Hilda who had to shoulder past people that were squeezed around the closely clustered tables, a path cleared for the elder Gautier son. And who could blame them, with his heavy brow that was permanently set in an intense glare that practically made Felix’s own look kitten-like in comparison, and a nasty, jagged scar running diagonally over the bridge of his nose?</p><p>Sylvain was easy enough to pick out in the crowd, and Miklan wasted no time plopping down in the empty chair across from his younger brother. He grinned broadly, showing off rows of yellowed teeth from years of neglect. The brothers were practically antithetical of each other in just about every regard: where Sylvain was well-kept and clean, Miklan showed his time at sea plainly and with no concern about offending the senses of those around him; where Sylvain was charming and friendly, Miklan was brutish and crass; where Sylvain preferred to keep things civil and peaceful during his acts of piracy, Miklan reveled in the bloodshed and violence.</p><p>Though, Sylvain may have been a bit biased (only a little, though).</p><p>“Miklan,” he sighed heavily, making no attempt to hide the disdain in his voice. “Figures I’d be unfortunate enough to run into you sooner or later.” Miklan sneered at him, but didn’t immediately bite something back, too busy flagging down Mercedes for drinks and, like the swine he was, swatting her on the rear as she passed by, earning an icy state from not only her, but Felix and Sylvain as well. “Maybe you shouldn’t piss off the woman who’s going to be handling your drinks.”</p><p>He dismissed Sylvain with a wave of his scarred, meaty hand. “What’s she gonna do? Spit in it?” He barked out a laugh as if he’d said something funny. Sylvain just glared. “For fuck’s sake, pull the stick out of you ass and lighten up.”</p><p>Mercedes returned a moment later with drinks in hand, handing Miklan his roughly enough to slop some over the edge. Sylvain held his breath as he watched, ready to spring at a second’s notice if Miklan snapped, but he just grinned, a lecherous gleam in his eye as Mercedes handed Felix and Sylvain their own drinks and walked away. He held up his tankard in a mock toast, “drinks are on you, Sylvie.”</p><p>Sylvain just rolled his eyes. In any other bar, he’d let Miklan walk out without paying, and not give enough fucks to settle his brother’s debt. But he couldn’t short Mercedes like that. Of course, he wouldn’t give Miklan the satisfaction of telling him that.</p><p>Now about a quarter into his drink, Miklan’s eyes fell on Felix as if noticing him for the first time. He stared, unfazed by Felix’s stony face, unflinchingly meeting the elder man’s eyes. Miklan glanced back at Sylvain, eyebrow cocked. “New crewman or new fuck toy?”</p><p>Out of his peripheral, Sylvain could see Felix practically bristle, reinforcing Sylvain’s mental image of kitten-Felix. He willed Felix to keep his cool and not piss Miklan off too bad. The last thing he needed was to deliver his hostage to his father minus a limb or two. “Neither,” Sylvain said coolly. “Just an… old friend.” Next to him, Felix made a face like he’d swallowed a lemon, but he said nothing.</p><p>Miklan returned to staring at Felix, concentrating very hard – Sylvain resisted the urge to tell him not to hurt himself. Felix, to his credit, didn’t flinch. “I know you from somewhere.”</p><p>“No, you don’t.”</p><p>Miklan’s eyes narrowed. “I think I’d remember a pretty face like yours.”</p><p>Normally, when Sylvain made that kind of remark, Felix would flush bright red and scowl away as an excuse to hide his face. But with Miklan, he just stared, anger flashing in his amber eyes. “Clearly not.”</p><p>After a long moment, Sylvain glancing back and forth between them anxiously, Miklan grinned and leaned back in his chair. “Of course,” he laughed. “You Fraldarius bitches are all a pretty bunch.” Felix tensed, hand curling tight around his tankard, and for a wild moment, Sylvain was sure he was about to chuck it at Miklan’s head. “Though, I think Glenn was prettier.”</p><p>Felix stood abruptly, hands slamming down on the table loud enough to draw the curious eyes of their fellow drunken patrons. Sylvain put a gentle hand on his shoulder, pleading with his eyes for Felix to calm down and not start something that Miklan was dying to finish. “What do <em>you</em> know about my brother?” Felix spat.</p><p>“Please,” Miklan huffed, “a few years ago, you couldn’t make port in Kingdom waters without hearing someone suck <em>Commodore Fraldarius</em>’ dick.”</p><p>Which was true enough, Sylvain knew. He was the talk of the town, so to speak, especially a few years later after news of his tragic death spread. The youngest man in the Royal Navy to read the rank of Commodore, went down with his ship and his king, and the bloodthirsty Duscuran pirates that sank <em>HRM Areadbhar</em> left only a single survivor, the king’s only heir, Prince Dimitri.</p><p>“‘Course,” Miklan continued, “everyone knew the easiest way to pass an inspection when he boarded your ship was to bend him over and-”</p><p>A few things happened very quickly, then. The table that separated Felix from Miklan crashed to the floor, their drinks flying and splashing the people sitting closest to them. Felix lunged toward Miklan, arm reeled back to deck him. And Sylvain grabbed him around the middle, the only thing that would keep him from ending up as a Felix-sized smear on the floor. Miklan just sat there, grinning like he’d won as Felix writhed in Sylvain’s grasp, arms flailing toward the older Gautier.</p><p>“You’re a fucking liar,” Felix hissed, elbowing Sylvain hard between the ribs and managing to break free of his grip. He didn’t try and maul Miklan again, though.</p><p>“Think what you want,” Miklan said with a shrug. “So what if your brother was a whore?”</p><p>Sylvain put a hand on Felix’s shoulder once more, before the younger man could decide if he still wanted to murder Miklan or not. “He’s not worth it,” he muttered in Felix’s ear.</p><p>“Get off me,” Felix huffed, slapping Sylvain’s hand away and stalking toward the door. Miklan let out a barking laugh as he watched Felix go.</p><p>“Felix,” Sylvain called, already starting for the door. He would apologize to Mercedes later.</p><p>“Hey, what about my drink?” Miklan barked after him.</p><p>Sylvain flipped him off over his shoulder. “Pay your own fucking tab, Miklan.” It wasn’t hard to catch up to Felix as he winded through the twilit streets. Neither spoke until they came to a stop at the end of an unused section of dock well away from the din of the city, the only sound the crash of the waves against the rocks. Felix flopped down, leaning his back against a post and letting one leg dangle over the edge. He stared out over the dark water, fuming silently.</p><p>“I’m sorry about that,” Sylvain said, scrambling for anything that could things okay for Felix. “My brother’s an ass.”</p><p>“Just him, huh?” Felix scoffed. And, okay, that one hurt a little bit. “After all, Margrave Gautier has <em>two </em>pirate sons, last I checked.” Sylvain blanched. He was sure he’d never told Felix his family name, and no one in his crew ever used it either.</p><p>“How…?”</p><p>“You thought your ‘old friend’ forgot?”</p><p>Sylvain sighed heavily, moving to sit against the post opposite of Felix, mirroring his pose. “You never said anything.”</p><p>“You never wrote back.”</p><p>There was hurt in his voice. Real, genuine hurt, even after all those years. “I tried,” he offered lamely, running a hand through his hair. “I swear I tried. I wrote so many letters, Felix. But I never got any back from you, and eventually I stopped trying.”</p><p>Felix’s brow furrowed you. “I wrote you for months.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know, but I never got them.” Sylvain scowled at the waves. “It wasn’t until just a few years ago I learned that my father was to blame. He never sent the letters I wrote you, and never gave me the ones you wrote me.”</p><p>“Why would he do that?”</p><p>Sylvain shrugged. “Why does my father do anything?” he huffed. “Just something else in my life he could control to make sure I stayed loyal to him. Because that worked so well.”</p><p>Felix was silent for a while, studying him intently. “What drove you to piracy?” he asked suddenly. There was an intense look in his eyes, like the answer to his question was a matter of grave importance. And maybe to Felix it was.</p><p>He didn’t answer immediately. “When I turned seventeen, I started sailing on my father’s ships. Within three years, I was promoted to first mate on his flagship, <em>Lady Rosa</em>. Nepotism at its finest. That’s when I learned what business my father was really in. The cargo she carried was Srengi slaves. I couldn’t stand it. It… it’s not right.</p><p>“So I staged a mutiny,” he sighed. “Took the Srengi people to Alliance waters.” While slavery was still legal in the Kingdom – though thankfully starting be outlawed on some of the islands – it had been illegal in the Alliance and parts of Adrestia for nearly a decade. “Legally speaking, I stole my father’s property. An act of piracy. I figured, what the fuck. In for a penny, in for a pound.”</p><p>Felix’s laugh drew Sylvain’s eyes. “Of course you became a pirate because it was the most moral option,” he scoffed.</p><p>It was like a bubble of tension was popped in that moment, and the two of them laughed about the long, absurd circumstances that had somehow conspired to get the two of them to that exact spot to enjoy it. Sylvain pushed himself up and offered his hand to Felix. “Come on. I’m sure Miklan’s fucked off to some dive bar with cheap alcohol by now, and I’m not nearly as drunk as I was hoping to be by now.”</p><p>Felix took his hand, soft and warm in his own, and let Sylvain haul him to his feet. And they returned to <em>Lamine </em>to resume their drinking, suddenly in much higher spirits.</p><p> </p><p>~OoO~</p><p> </p><p>The streets of the city were still as they made their way back to <em>Lady Ruin</em> on unsteady feet, arms slung over each others shoulders and leaning heavily against each others sides as they attempted to stay upright. Bubbles of too-loud laughter escaped their lips as they slurred dumb jokes into each others ears.</p><p>It was a miracle they made it back to the ship, stumbling haphazardly into Sylvain’s quarters. Sylvain was warm, buzzing with some mixture of relief, happiness, and alcohol. Felix’s cheeks were painted rosy from intoxication, and he just felt so right pressed against Sylvain’s side.</p><p>Sylvain let him go, just for a moment to turn and take off his doublet, when Felix’s hand scrabbled against his arm. He spun back around just in time to see the dark-haired man tottering on his feet, on the verge of toppling right over and Sylvain scrambled to keep him upright.</p><p>And, oh. Suddenly, Felix was in his arms, their chests flush together. Just like the last time he’d found Felix like this, it felt so nice to have the slight, lithe man held against him, encircled in his arms. Felix stared up at him, eyes glassy and unfocused. He blinked. Once. Twice.</p><p>For a spit second, Sylvain’s brain stopped working as their lips pressed together. It was an inelegant, clumsy thing, but Goddess did Sylvain think he might drown in Felix in that moment. Before he could really keep up with what was happening, hands were trailing over chests and backs, winding into hair. Shirts were falling discarded to the floor.</p><p>And Felix was under him, his hair fanned out on Sylvain’s pillow like a dark halo. The kissed and touched and grinded their bodies together, weeks of pining and need finally boiling over.</p><p>The sound Felix made when Sylvain reached between them to palm at his erection was divine, and Sylvain wanted to hear it again and again and again. But then Felix’s lips were off of his, and he pulled Sylvain’s wrist away. Sylvain blinked, confused as Felix shook his head insistently. “Don’ wanna,” he whined. “Don’ wanna.”</p><p>“Okay,” Sylvain assured him softly, pressing a soft kiss to his brow. “Okay.” Felix relaxed under him, his eyelids fluttering. “Can I still kiss you?” Felix considered it blearily for a moment before nodding.</p><p>And kiss him Sylvain did, no longer the hungry, heated kisses that consumed them when the promise of sex waited at the end. He kissed him deep and slow until the alcohol-induced haze swallowed them and they drifted to sleep in each others arms.</p><p> </p><p>~OoO~</p><p> </p><p>When Felix woke, his head was throbbing. The sway of the ship betrayed that they had already left port, and the motion made his stomach churn. With a soft groan, he buried his face deeper in the soft pillow, focusing hard on not puking.</p><p>He was engulfed in a gentle heat and he pressed himself closer to it. The light snores he was so accustomed to hearing were no longer across the room as usual, they were right over his ear where Sylvain’s nose was nuzzled into his hair. The captain’s arm was slung over Felix’s bare back, holding him close in sleep, and their legs were tangled together under the blanket.</p><p>Felix hadn’t been drunk enough to forget the night before. Sylvain’s horrible brother, their talk on the docks, making out late into the night, it was all only slightly fuzzy in his mind. He sighed as he remembered the way Sylvain’s lips had felt on his, how his calloused hands had felt as they traced over his back. And, even drunk, Sylvain had stopped when Felix asked him to go no further. If he hadn’t, if he’d pressed the issue, Felix knew he would have given in, wouldn’t have had the resolve to refuse again.</p><p>And, sure, it probably would have been good. It had been so long since he let anyone go further than stolen kisses and hasty groping. Call him sentimental, but it felt like a betrayal to the man he had once been sure he loved.</p><p>But, Goddess, did he miss it, the feeling of being stretched and filled, the feeling of being loved and cared for. Would it feel that way if he fucked Sylvain? And would it be worth it, in the end, if his father payed the ransom and Felix went back to Fraldarius never to see him again?</p><p>“Morning, beautiful,” Sylvain cooed softly in his ear, pushing himself up on an elbow to press a kiss to Felix’s temple. The hand on his back traced lazy patterns in his skin, and Felix felt like he might melt. He turned slowly, groaning as the movement sent spikes of pain through his skull, until he was on his back staring up into Sylvain’s warm brown eyes. “Did you sleep well?”</p><p>“Your bed’s a lot more comfortable than the fucking cot,” he grumbled.</p><p>“Yeah?” Sylvain laughed, idly brushing strands of hair behind his ear. “Well, you can sleep in my bed as much as you want, kitten.”</p><p>Felix arched his eyebrow. “Kitten? Really?”</p><p>Sylvain just laughed, swooping down to claim Felix’s lips. Felix’s nose scrunched and he turned his head. “What?” Sylvain huffed, sounding equal parts amused and indignant, “I can’t kiss you anymore?”</p><p>“Not with sour beer breath.”</p><p>“Well, your breath doesn’t exactly smell like roses,” Sylvain noted, rolling over on top of him, enveloping him like a blanket. This time, when Sylvain kissed him, Felix kissed him back.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW: homophobia/homophobic parents, referenced spanking as punishment<br/>_____<br/>Oops, this chapter ended up really short.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Overnight – literally – the entire dynamic of captor/captive flipped on its head. The bedroom eyes that Sylvain flashed him throughout the day hadn’t changed, obviously, and they still sent a nervous embarrassment coursing through him, but they were suddenly laced with a delighted, guilty thrill. Especially when, during moments when they found themselves alone, Sylvain would swoop down and pepper Felix with hungry kisses that made his stomach coil with heat. Before, the thought of kissing the pirate, of <em>enjoying </em>it, would have been ridiculous. Maybe it was ridiculous.</p><p>At night, Felix slept in Sylvain’s bed, falling asleep to slow kisses and talks long into the night about the direction their lives had taken after they’d parted ways on Garreg Mach. There was lots of reminiscing, “remember that time…” Mostly concerning mischief Sylvain had dragged a reluctant Felix into, like sneaking into the kitchen for a midnight snack that resulted in a small fire and the scolding of a lifetime from Seteth, or the time they found a secret passage way where they’d nearly gotten lost in the labyrinthine catacombs that twisted below the monastery.</p><p>All the while, Sylvain never pressed Felix to go further than he was comfortable with, seemingly content with kisses and groping, bodies pressed tight together. They were three days away from Katra, their journey nearing its conclusion, whatever that may be, laying in bed together. Sylvain’s chest was flush against his back, bare skin to bare skin, stroking a slow hand along Felix’s flank and pressing soft kisses to his neck.</p><p>Felix groaned, leaning into the touch. He could feel Sylvain’s erection prodding against his lower back, the man lightly grinding against him. Felix shuddered as deft fingers tweaked at one of his nipples. “Sylvain,” he sighed.</p><p>“Sorry,” he muttered, hand falling still against his stomach and kissing the crown of his head in apology. “Can I ask you something?”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>“I’m not… I don’t care either way, I’m just curious.” He paused, and when Felix didn’t say anything, he continued. “Why don’t you want to have sex?” He swallowed hard, not sure this was a conversation he wanted to have. “You don’t have to answer, if you don’t want to,” Sylvain added quickly. “I’m just nosy.”</p><p>“It would be… wrong.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>He scowled at the wall. “I’m engaged.”</p><p>That was clearly not the answer Sylvain was expecting. “You’re… what?”</p><p>“Engaged,” he repeated bitterly, “to a woman named Annette in Fhirdiad. We’re set to be married next spring.”</p><p>“I see.”</p><p>Once the words were out, Felix found he couldn’t stop them coming. “It’s not that I don’t <em>want</em> to have sex, but… If my father pays the ransom, I have a life to go back to. I have to go and marry this girl I barely know and somehow be happy with that. If I sleep with you now, it’s just going to be harder to do that.”</p><p>Sylvain was silent for a long moment, tracing idle patterns on his skin. “What’s she like?”</p><p>“She’s nice, I guess,” he sighed. “I’ve only met her twice. She’s bubbly, optimistic, kind-”</p><p>“Basically you’re polar opposite.”</p><p>Felix elbowed him in the ribs, earning a slightly winded laugh. “She’s the kind of woman who deserves to marry someone who loves her. Instead, she gets stuck with me.”</p><p>Sylvain rolls him onto his back, propped up on an elbow to look down at him. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you’d be a great person to be stuck with.” He rolled his eyes, ducking out of the way of Sylvain’s incoming kiss. “Can I keep being nosy?”</p><p>“Would you stop even if I asked you to?”</p><p>“Probably not,” he laughed, this time managing to steal a peck on the lips. “Have you had sex before?”</p><p>His face heated, and based on the pirate’s insufferable grin, he was sure that was all the answer needed. Still, he turned his head and muttered, “yeah.”</p><p>“Guy or girl?”</p><p>“Guy.”</p><p>“One time, or multiple?”</p><p>“...Multiple.”</p><p>The grin widened. “One <em>guy</em>, or multiple?”</p><p>“One.”</p><p>Sylvain’s red head cocked to the side. “Color me intrigued. What guy managed to get your cranky ass in bed?” In response, Felix thwacked him with a pillow, and the redhead rolled away from him with laughter bubbling on his lips.</p><p>Felix told him.</p><p> </p><p>~OoO~</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Felix shifted uncomfortably, unsure what to do with his hands. They’d had sex before, sure. But that was different, in a lot of ways. For one, Felix was one being penetrated in those instances. He’d never had his cock in anything but a hand, whether his own or his partner’s.</em>
</p><p><em> “It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while,” the man had sheepishly admitted to him, face flushed a delicate pink. “Please, Felix, will you indulge me?” Where had he even gotten the idea? Before the two of them had started their illicit relationship, before they’d crossed the line into intimacy, they were both basically blushing virgins with next to no experience between them. They’d fumbled their way to figuring out every little thing, from kissing without their teeth knocking, to laying together without causing Felix pain. </em><em>The thought that they might </em>use their mouths<em> on each other honestly hadn’t crossed his mind.</em></p><p>
  <em> Felix had been reluctant, anxious even, though he agreed when he realized how much it meant to the man who looked at him with such hopelessly fond eyes. The second the pair of plush lips wrapped around the head of his cock, though, all of his reservations fell away. He let his head fall back, eyes flitting shut and fingers fisting into locks of golden hair. “Dima,” he groaned, and his prince swallowed him to the base with surprising ease, a contented moan sending shockwaves of pleasure reverberating along his length. It was all he could do to stop himself bucking up into the sweet heat of Dimitri’s mouth.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>So absorbed in the pleasure and drunk on the lewd little sounds that were coming from Dimitri’s mouth, Felix didn’t hear the door open. “What in the Eternal Flames are you doing?” his father demanded suddenly, voice seeming to boom supernaturally loud around them. Dimitri made a sound like a strangled choke, coming off of his cock with a slick, vulgar pop and leaving his erection, flushed and shiny with spit, on full display in the chilly air of the chamber. Recovering himself slightly, and ever the gentleman, Dimitri quickly snatched a pillow off the bed from behind Felix and laid it on his lap in an attempt to preserve what was left of his modesty.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Felix had seen his father angry many, many times. At times, it seemed some sort of quarrel would break out between the two on days that happened to end in ‘Y.’ His face was red and contorted in barely contained fury, a look he’d seen only a handful of times. It reminded him of the time, when he was twelve, that the man had overheard him confessing to Glenn that he’d kissed a boy in the marketplace. He’d been unable to sit properly for a good day or two after that. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> This look was worse.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> For a moment, it seemed none of them were capable of speech. His father was too furious to form words, and the boys were too mortified. After a long, agonizing silence, the man managed to grit out an order see him in his study and stormed out of the room, seething. The lecture that followed lasted over an hour.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>~OoO~<br/><br/></p><p>“He sent Dimitri back home after that, and I haven’t seen him since. Goddess, that was almost six years ago.” He paused, taking in Sylvain’s stunned silence. “What?”</p><p>“I have several questions.” Sylvain took the roll of his eyes as permission to ask them. “First of all, you haven’t had sex in six years?”</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p>“Right. Second, are you seriously telling me that you fucked the <em>king of Faerghus</em>?”</p><p>“Well, he wasn’t king then, obviously.” Sylvain just blinked blankly and Felix huffed out a sigh. “After his parents died, he was left with his only living relative, his uncle Rufus. Rufus didn’t want to deal with him, so my father offered to foster him until he came of age to take the throne. He stayed with us from the time he was fourteen until he was eighteen.</p><p>“For a while, I hated him. Really, really hated him. He survived the attack that killed my brother, and part of me blamed him for that. Part of me wished that Glenn had survived instead. But…” He shrugged. “Eventually, I came to terms with it a bit better and I realized I was being unfair. We grew close. Once upon a time, I might have even said I loved him. He was eighteen when my father sent him away, still too young to take the throne, so he served in the Kingdom Royal Navy until he turned twenty-one. That’s really all there is to it.”</p><p>Sylvain stared up at the canopy overhead, still trying to process Felix’s story. “So,” he finally muttered, slowly, “how are the royal jewels?”</p><p>Felix glared at him. “I’d tell you, but I wouldn’t want to make you self-conscious.”</p><p>Sylvain snorted in laughter. “Ha ha, very funny.” Felix just arched an eyebrow. “You are joking, right?”</p><p> </p><p>~OoO~</p><p> </p><p>Rodrigue sat back in his chair, staring at the crackling fire across the room in silent contemplation. The cup of tea, untouched in front of him, had long since gone cold. He was sure there were dark bags under his eyes, sure that his hair was a lank, unkempt mess, but he could hardly bring himself to be concerned about it.</p><p>He hadn’t slept properly since he’d learned his son had been kidnapped by pirates. His mind was too wracked with unpleasant thoughts of what Felix must have been enduring. Was he tied up in some frigid, leaking cargo hold, subsisting on what meager, molded scraps the brutes deigned to toss him? Surely they wouldn’t truly starve him; if they intended to get money for his release, they had to keep him alive. Had he been beaten? Had he been raped? Goddess only knew what sick, depraved things those rabid animals would do to their captives.</p><p>Part of him couldn’t help but feel somewhat responsible for what had happened. It had been his decision to send Felix aboard <em>The Aegis</em>. But how was he supposed to have known? The boy needed to learn, needed to understand that his actions would not be tolerated. He had a duty to uphold, after all, to his family, to his people, and to his betrothed. A man could not sire heirs laying with another man. It was unnatural and unacceptable.</p><p>It was a father’s responsibility to teach his sons right from wrong. Glenn understood that, though his life had been cut short so abruptly. Rodrigue just hoped Felix would live long enough to understand some day, too.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another pretty short chapter, but there's at least some sexy stuff in this one, finally :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They arrived on Katra four days before the first of the Blue Sea Moon, giving them enough time to get set up while they waited for Duke Fraldarius’ men to arrive. Sylvain was confidant that there was no way they could have reached the island ahead of <em>Lady Ruin</em>. <em>The Aegis</em> had to head clear back to Fraldarius to deliver the message before they could even think about making for Katra, leaving Sylvain with a decent enough head start that they were able to make port on Derdriu without putting them behind.</p><p>Pulling in at the main port of Katra would do them no good. If the Duke’s men saw their ship, it would only invite an attack. Instead, Sylvain opted for a cove hidden a few miles down the shore to the west of the port. It was hard to see from the water unless you knew it was there, and the lush fauna of the island cloaked a ship in the cove entirely this time of year. The cove was a popular spot for smugglers and pirates, which kind of lent itself to giving Katra the reputation of being a pirate port.</p><p>Another useful feature of the Srengi island was Tebbot. A few miles east of Katra was the old village of Tebbot. It was something of a ghost town, abandoned nearly fifty years before after a series of calamities; famine, tainted water, raids by pirates, and finally a plague that swept through, decimating much of the population. The superstitious inhabitants that remained, believing the land to be cursed, left their town behind and never returned.</p><p>It was fortunate for people looking to make a shady deal, however.</p><p>Unlike on Derdriu, where Sylvain was pretty comfortable letting Felix join him in town, he would take no such risk now that they were on Katra. There was always the possibility of the Duke’s ship arriving a few days ahead of time, and he wouldn’t risk them seeing Felix before the designated meeting time.</p><p>Felix didn’t seem to mind too much.</p><p>Sylvain spent a lot of time watching his hostage as the hours ticked down and down and down. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but there was a sort of pensive look in Felix’s eyes. He smiled a sad smile as he talked to the crew. It was kind of amazing to see how he’d gone from (rightfully) scowling and distrustful of Sylvain’s men, to laughing and joking like he’d known them his whole life.</p><p>He was quiet in Sylvain’s arms at night, clinging tight to him like he didn’t want to let go. Sylvain tried to give him his space. If he wanted to talk about what was bothering him, he would. This lasted until their last night together, when Sylvain could no longer temper his curiosity.</p><p>“Are you okay?” he wondered, running his fingers though Felix’s hair.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Fe, I can tell something’s bothering you.” Felix said nothing, just sighed heavily. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay, but I want to make you feel better.”</p><p>“You already are,” he muttered, and Goddess, if that didn’t make fondness swell in Sylvain’s chest. Sylvain waited, idly carding his fingers through Felix’s hair. The younger man huffed, curling himself tighter against Sylvain’s chest. “I just… don’t know what I’ll regret more. Being with you, or not. Well, <em>regret</em>’s not the right word… ugh.”</p><p>Sylvain kissed the crown of his head softly. “It’s okay, Fe. Whatever you need.”</p><p>Felix looked up at him, amber eyes burning and determined. He was quiet for a long moment, searching Sylvain’s eyes for something the pirate couldn’t tell. His voice was a rough whisper when he finally said, “give me something to remember you by?”</p><p>Sylvain swallowed hard, nodding slowly. He kissed his way down the column of Felix’s neck, sucking lightly and reveling in the soft gasps and moans he made in response. His fingers trailed down Felix’s chest, smoothing over his soft, heated skin. He brushed over the ties of Felix’s trousers, knuckles skimming lightly over the bulge there. “Is this alright?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Felix breathed.</p><p>Sylvain made his way down Felix’s body, leaving burning kisses against his skin the entire way, until he was settled between Felix’s legs. He untied the laces slowly, searching Felix’s face for any hint of discomfort or reluctance. There were none.</p><p>He took his time shimmying Felix’s trousers and smalls off and running his hands down his creamy thighs. His cock sprung free, hard and leaking, flushed and pretty (and, okay, maybe Sylvain was biased). Felix gasped as Sylvain wrapped his hand around the shaft, stroking slowly to bring him to full hardness. Eyes locked fast on Felix’s, Sylvain licked a strip up the underside of his cock.</p><p>“Fuck,” Felix hissed, fingers fisting into the sheets. With a smirk, Sylvain lapped at his slit, drinking in the sounds it drew out of Felix. “Sylvain~”</p><p>Deciding Felix had taken enough teasing, Sylvain wrapped his lips around the tip and bobbed down. The effect was instantaneous. With a groan, his fingers knotted into Sylvain’s hair and his hips canted up, pushing more of his length into Sylvain’s mouth.</p><p>Sylvain swallowed him down happily.</p><p>All the while, Sylvain freed his own erection and pumped it in time with the bobbing of his head. The moans Felix made were delicious, and Sylvain would savor them for a long time to come. It was nice, hearing the way he let loose and gave into the pleasure.</p><p>The hand in his hair tightened. “Sylvain,” he huffed. “I’m so close.”</p><p>Sylvain hummed around him, hollowing his cheeks and sucking. Felix groaned, blunt nails scraping into Sylvain’s scalp. He came with a broken moan, hot seed spurting into Sylvain’s mouth. Sylvain swallowed, letting Felix ride out his orgasm as he grinded his cock against Sylvain’s tongue. He pulled off his softening cock, nuzzling against his thigh as he spent into his own hand.</p><p>After wiping himself clean on the shirt he'd discarded earlier in the evening, Sylvain crawled back up Felix’s body and pulled the lithe man into his arms while the two of them laid panting against each other. “Think you’ll remember that?” Sylvain teased, still a little breathless.</p><p>A sly smirk played on Felix’s lips. “Remember what?”</p><p>With a playful growl, Sylvain rolled on top of Felix, delighting in the surprised yelp that escaped the younger man’s lips in the moment before he claimed for himself.</p><p> </p><p>~OoO~</p><p> </p><p>The first of the Blue Sea Moon, twenty minutes to noon, in bar named <em>The Whirlpool</em> on the Srengi island of Katra. Just as the pirates had demanded a moon before.</p><p>Two dark-haired men sat alone at a table in the darkest corner, a nondescript chest on the floor between them. One was much older, a man in his mid forties, perhaps, with short-cropped raven hair, icy blue eyes, and a well-groomed beard. The other was young, perhaps seventeen or so. His hair, the same color as that of the older man, was longer, neatly tied back with a length of ribbon. His face was round, boyish and smooth, betraying his youth despite the way he tried to hold himself as an equal to his companion.</p><p>Gordon Fraldarius, brother of Duke Fraldarius, and his eldest son, Dante.</p><p>There were few other patrons in the tavern, burly Srengi men native to the island, likely fishermen weathered by the rough seas. They eyed the two Fódlans with suspicion and distrust, a natural instinct when a ship flying Faerghus colors docked in their little port. But as long as the Faegans kept their heads down and their actions peaceful, there would be no trouble.</p><p>Dante checked his pocket watch, the twitching of his foot on the worn wooden floor below betraying his nerves. “Relax, son,” Gordon muttered, taking a slow swig of the light ale he’d ordered to placate the barkeep. “You would do best to keep your head around pirates. Fear is a weakness they will exploit.”</p><p>The boy rubbed his clammy palms against his trousers. “Are you sure the plan is going to work, father?” The man arched his eyebrow. “It seems like too much of a risk. Wouldn’t it be safer if we do as they said?”</p><p>Gordon’s lips were pressed in a tight line. “The Fraldarius Trading Company does not negotiate with <em>pirates</em>,” he spat, voice low and dangerous.</p><p>“But what if they kill him?” Dante insisted. “How can we be okay taking that risk? Uncle Rodrigue’s already lost one son. If he loses another-”</p><p>“You worry too much,” his father scoffed. “We will have the element of surprise on our hands, after all. Felix will be alright. And if we have to kill them to ensure his safety, so be it. No one will miss the vermin anyhow.”</p><p>Dante licked his lips, uncertain, but he held his tongue. His father knew what he was doing, after all.</p><p> </p><p>~OoO~</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Felix’s eyes were red from crying. His face was a stony mask as he watched shovelful after shovelful of dirt being tossed into the grave. Beside him, Uncle Rodrigue wore an identical, somber mask, a hand tight on his son’s shoulder.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Dante didn’t understand.</em>
</p><p><em> Not really. They said Glenn was dead. He’d died at sea, Daddy had told him, trying to protect the Royal family from Duscur pirates. Dante, </em> <em>eight</em><em>, had been to only one funeral before, that of Aunt Ambrosia two years before. Felix had cried then, a lot, as they lowered his mommy into the ground. Glenn had held him, crying too. </em></p><p>
  <em> Aunt Ambrosia had been inside her casket. She’d worn a pretty blue dress, makeup, jewelry. It looked like she was sleeping, and Dante didn’t understand why they didn’t just wake her up. Daddy had explained that she wouldn’t ever wake up again, and that idea scared him a lot, that you could fall asleep and just not be able to wake up again.</em>
</p><p><em> But the casket they buried for Glenn’s funeral was empty. Daddy told him so. </em> <em>He had gone down with his ship, his body somewhere deep in the ocean. If that was the case, why was everybody so sad? Maybe he wasn’t asleep at all. Maybe he was just lost, and he would come back. Then Felix wouldn’t make that face anymore. He would smile and play with Dante like he used to.</em></p><p>
  <em> When Dante suggested this, Felix called him a stupid kid and ran off to his room, and Dante could hear him crying through the door.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Glenn never came back, and eventually, Dante understood.</em>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They trekked through the forest, the heat of the tropical island blistering, especially for a man of Faerghus. It didn’t take long before his shirt was soaked through with sweat and the strands of hair that had fallen loose from the knot he wore it in were plastered to his neck. Around him, a dozen pirates marched, a light, unaffected banter drifting between the trees. Men on the outskirts of the group held guns and swords at the ready, prepared to defend against man and beast alike, should the need have arisen.</p><p>Hilda walked by his side, carefree as she chattered like it was any other day. Sylvain was ahead of them, leading the pack, his shirt nearly transparent where it was stuck to his skin with sweat. He was far more used to the heat than Felix was, however, and it didn’t seem to bother him as he continued leading them forward.</p><p>Nerves clawed at Felix’s stomach like a ravenous animal, no matter how much he tried to tamp them down. He was being ridiculous; what did he have to be nervous about? At that very moment, Lorenz and Raphael would be making their way into Katra to meet his father – or, more likely, whoever his father sent in his stead – to ensure that everyone was playing fair and, if everything looked good, to bring them to the meeting spot in Tebbot.</p><p>After that, one of two things would happen. His father would pay, or he wouldn’t. He would be freed, or he wouldn’t. He would be whisked back to a life he had no control of or say in, or he wouldn’t.</p><p>So, yeah, nothing to worry about at all.</p><p>He noticed Hilda shooting him sly, sidelong glances, a smirk playing on her lips. “What?” he huffed quietly, not wanting to be overheard if it was something embarrassing she wanted to say (and based on the look she was giving him, there was a pretty fair chance of that).</p><p>“Nothing,” she dismissed, mercifully quiet. “I just thought it was nice that you ended up enjoying your time with us, that’s all.”</p><p>He arched an eyebrow, wary at the tone of her voice. Clearly, that was <em>not</em> all. “What makes you think that?” he dared to wonder.</p><p>She grinned like a cat who caught a clever little mouse. “Well, it sure sounded like you had a good time last night.” Felix was grateful for the ungodly heat that was bearing down on him, sure his skin was already flushed and could not betray his mortification. Hilda giggled, not needing to see him flush to know that her words had affected him. “There are no secrets on a pirate ship, Felix.”</p><p>He cast a glance over his shoulder, eyeing the men that surrounded them suspiciously. Had they all heard, then? If they had, they’d all been merciful enough not to say anything. “Fantastic,” he growled.</p><p>Hilda laughed again, patting him on the arm in mock sympathy. “If it makes you feel better, everyone’s been rooting for you two to finally fuck for weeks.” He groaned. “It was kind of pitiful, watching you guys pine for so long.”</p><p>“We didn’t fuck,” he argued, petulant and too loud; eyes snapped over toward him, and a round of laughter murmured through the group. Ahead of them, Sylvain glanced over his shoulder, lips curled up in an arrogant smirk. Felix wanted to curl up and die.</p><p>Hilda rolled her eyes. “If you got off, which it sounded very much like you <em>did</em>, then it’s close enough and you’re splitting hairs.”</p><p>“Shut up.”</p><p>“Besides,” she continued despite Felix’s protests, “it’s not like you were fooling anyone when the two of you would sneak off to make out. We <em>all</em> knew what you were doing.”</p><p>“I hate you.”</p><p>“No you don’t,” she said in a sweet, sing-song voice, “you’re just grumpy ‘cause I’m right.” She flashed him a wink and skipped forward to walk by Sylvain.</p><p>He hated that she was right.</p><p>By the time they broke through the line of the forest, the sun was nearing its peak in the sky, noon drawing ever closer. The abandoned town of Tebbot was eerily silent. All of the buildings were in various stages of dilapidation, windows shattered, roofs caving in, doors swaying in the breeze on broken hinges. It was like a ghost town, and an unprecedented chill ran down Felix’s spine despite the heat.</p><p>They set up in a building in the center of town that seemed to have taken the least damage over the years, its roof still standing and most of its grimy windows intact. It was a single story building, the roof peaked with a weathered steeple that seemed to have once housed a large bell. If Felix had to guess, though any signs that may have revealed its purpose were either far too faded to read or in the Srengi script that Felix had no idea how to read, he would have guessed the building had once been a temple or a town hall.</p><p>It was mercifully cool inside, the light dim from where it barely managed to filter through the filthy windows. The air was thick with dust, enough to make Felix and a few of the men around him cough and stutter as it filled their lungs.</p><p>The fate of the bell that was missing from the steeple became apparent immediately upon entering. In the center of the floor, a large bell sat lodged into busted floor boards, a hole in the ceiling directly overhead where it must have crashed through. Once upon a time, it must have been beautifully polished until it gleamed. The years had been unkind to it, however, as a layer of green patina dulled its shine.</p><p>The bell aside, any and all furnishing that had once been in the building had long since been removed, making the single room seem loomingly large. A few rotting crates and barrels were scattered about, perhaps as makeshift seats left behind by those using the building for a similar purpose as they were using it themselves.</p><p>Sylvain’s pirates set up around the space, taking up watch at each of the windows and at the two doors. It was a waiting game until Lorenz and Raphael led their guest to them. Felix felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest, and as absurd as he felt to realize it, he wished Sylvain would wrap an arm over his shoulder and whisper soothingly in his ear that everything would be okay. As it was, the captain was keeping his distance, stiff shoulders betraying his laid-back air.</p><p>“They’re coming, Captain,” the man stationed at the westward facing window called out, cutting through what Felix suddenly noticed had fallen into tense silence.</p><p>Sylvain nodded toward Hilda, who made her way to Felix’s side. She pulled out a length of rope, and loosely bound Felix’s wrists. It was for show, more than anything else. They waited in silence, Sylvain to the left, Hilda to the right, and Felix right in the middle.</p><p>A quick knock on the door boomed through the silence. The pirate manning the door unbarred it and pulled it open. Lorenz stepped inside first, leading a line of five men, rounded out by Raphael bringing up the rear. The five men lined up opposite Felix, Hilda, and Sylvain, a chest carried between two of them who Felix’s didn’t recognize.</p><p>The two in the center, he most certainly did, however, and Felix was not surprised to find that neither of the dark-haired men across from him were his father. His father had sent Uncle Gordon in his stead. The man stood tall, cutting an imposing figure with his broad shoulders and well-groomed hair and beard. Next to him, trying his hardest not to look apprehensive, stood Gordon’s son Dante.</p><p>“Captain Gautier,” Gordon greeted cordially, though there was a note of derision in his tone. “Felix.” He appraised Felix for a long moment. “Have you been harmed?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Well, then, I suppose I owe you my thanks for taking such good care of my dear nephew,” the man sneered at Sylvain. The took a moment, examining the faces around him. “Seems you have quite the collection of outcast nobles here, Captain.”</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Felix huffed without thinking, eyeing Hilda and Lorenz, who he’d already figured out were of noble birth, though he’d never worked up the nerve to ask them about it himself.</p><p>Gordon laughed. “Well, the captain himself, of course, who staged a mutiny aboard his father’s own ship and absconded with valuable cargo,” the man explained, though Felix had already heard that story. Something about the way his uncle referred to slaves, <em>human lives</em>, as nothing more than valuable cargo sat uneasily in his stomach.</p><p>Gordon’s eyes fell on Lorenz. “Count Gloucester’s eldest son, sold off to pay his father’s debts. He has other sons, after all. The House would be fine without one, right? But you shamed your father’s name even further by killing your captor and running off.” Lorenz glared with hurt in his eyes, indignant.</p><p>Gordon just chuckled and turned his attention to Hilda. The man had the attention of every pirate, an affect he had always seemed to have whenever he addressed a room. “And the only daughter of Duke Goneril, who murdered her fiance in cold blood. Must be nice to have a brother who was willing to tarnish his own good name to help you escape from prison before you could be hanged for your crimes.”</p><p>Hilda scowled at the ground, and Felix could see tears welling in his eyes. “Father,” Dante muttered, shifting anxiously on his feet. “Perhaps we should just get on with this. I’m sure Felix would like to leave, not stay here chatting.”</p><p>Gordon ignored his son, taking a step forward. “Of course a bunch of thieves, murderers, and cowards would wind up together. Birds of a feather, I suppose.”</p><p>“As fun as this little trip down memory lane is,” Sylvain spat dryly, “I think I agree with the kid. Let’s get this over with. Did you bring the gold?” Gordon nodded for the men carrying the chest to set move forward, and they sat it down in front of Sylvain, pulling the lid open.</p><p>Gold glinted in the low light in the chest. Felix’s eyes narrowed as he studied it, and he could just make out a layer of wood just under the surface of the coins. Sylvain seemed to notice too. “What do we have here?” he wondered, meeting Gordon’s eyes. Not breaking eye contact, he kicked at the chest, knocking it on its side. The contents spilled out with a clatter of gold, wood, and stone. A few gold pieces laid scattered among a pile of gravel.</p><p>A trick, to make the chest seem as though it contained the sum of gold requested when, in fact, there were only about fifty gold pieces.</p><p>“Sorry about that,” Gordon said with a shrug, not sounding sorry in the slightest. He glanced at Felix. “Your father hopes you will forgive the ruse, but the Fraldarius Trading Company does not negotiate with pirates.”</p><p>“Of course,” Felix spat. It was just as he’d feared from the beginning.</p><p>Sylvain sighed, sparing Felix a look full of sympathy. “Well, then I suppose our business here is done.”</p><p>“Don’t be so hasty, Captain,” Gordon warned him, pulling out his pistol and pointing it square at Sylvain. The click of the hammer being pulled back was deafening. “We don’t negotiate with pirates. We have no qualms killing them should we need to, however.” Sylvain’s hand twitched toward his own pistol. “Hand Felix over, and we will be on our way.”</p><p>“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, you’re a little bit outnumbered here. Don’t be stupid.”</p><p>“Stupid, hmm?” he mused, unbothered by Sylvain’s words. “Like allowed such easily distracted men to keep watch?” He raised the pistol to toward the ceiling and fired off a shot, the sound ringing out like thunder and raining debris around him as the bullet tore though the wood above.</p><p>Like a surging wave, more men poured in, busting through the doors and shattering through the windows. Shouts and curses of confusion filled the air, men from both parties pulling out weapons. All Felix could do was watch helplessly. Of course his father and his uncle would have concocted such a scheme. He was sure they would have stormed the building regardless of whether the men keeping watch had been distracted or not, but they’d let themselves be lulled into a false sense of security and played right into the man’s hands.</p><p>“I will repeat myself only once more, Captain,” Gordon called. “Hand Felix over.” Around them, more clicks of pistols being cocked and ready to fire rang out like a death knell. Sylvain licked his lips, eyes scanning over the enemies in front of them, trying to think his way through the bad situation. Sylvain was averse to fighting and bloodshed, and if he could avoid it, he would.</p><p>Fate had other plans, it seemed.</p><p>In the stalemate that settled over them, nerves were pulled taut, ready to snap. Sylvain drew his pistol. A gunshot from one of his uncle’s overeager men tore through the pregnant silence. It missed its mark, zooming between Felix and Sylvain and striking against the tarnished bell with an ear-shattering <em>gong!</em></p><p>Hilda shrieked, crumpling to the ground, and fighting erupted around them, the strike of steel on steel as swords clashed. Felix and Sylvain rushed to Hilda’s side. Blood was spilling between the fingers that clutched at her thigh. Tears streamed down her cheeks, chest heaving with sobs.</p><p>“Fuck,” Sylvain spat, standing up and drawing out his own sword in time to parry a blow from Felix’s right. “Get her out of here.” Felix wasted no time hauling her up as well as he could despite his bound wrists. She was unsteady on her feet and he scooped her up like a bride. Her blood coated his arm, sticky and hot.</p><p>Raphael was at his side in a second, keeping people away from him as he awkwardly cradled Hilda in his arms. The large, hulking man barreled past enemy swords, carving a path through the crowd toward the back exit. Felix was vaguely aware of his uncle’s voice over the mayhem, barking out an order of, “don’t just stand there gawking! Go after him!”</p><p>A moment later, Felix burst out the door into the blinding sunlight, the din of the fight dying away as he bolted down the street. He payed no attention to where he was heading, darting down alleys and around corners, getting as far away as he could.</p><p>Panting, drenched in sweat and blood, Felix came to a stop behind what he thought might have once been a guardhouse. He carefully sat Hilda down on the ground. Her face was pale, cheeks streaked with tears. “I need you to untie my hands,” he said.</p><p>It took some time, but she managed to work the knot apart with shaking hands. He wasted no time using the rope as a tourniquet to stop the flow of blood. The sound of footsteps on the rough, uneven cobblestone streets caught his ear.</p><p>Instinct took over as Felix pulled the sword from Hilda’s belt and stood, taking up a defensive stance in front of her as his pursuer rounded the corner. Sword in hand, red-faced and scared, Felix found himself face-to-face with Dante.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Slight warning for Hilda outing Felix in this chapter (in her defense, she did just get shot). Obviously, never be a dick and out your friends if they don't want to come out to someone themselves. It's played for laughs in this chapter, and Felix was trying to come out to someone without being direct about it, but it's seriously a very terrible thing to do IRL.<br/>-----<br/>Okay, it's almost finished. And there will be smut in the next chapter - finally - I promise. I don't know if you're still reading this, OP, and I'm sorry this got sooooo much longer than expected, and I don't know if you ended up getting bored of it or not, but I've had a lot of fun writing it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Felix was standing over Dante, the point of his foil pressed against the boy’s heaving chest. A sheen of sweat made his cousin’s skin glisten in the late afternoon sunlight, his long hair, pulled back in a sleek ponytail, was sticking against the back of his neck.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Are we done now?” Felix huffed, lowering the foil briskly.</em>
</p><p><em> Dante sighed, letting his head hang. He could </em>feel<em> his father’s eyes on him across the courtyard, stern and disapproving as ever as he sipped on his tea. They’d been at it for hours, long enough that Dante’s muscles screamed in protest. Only the sweat that dripped from Felix’s brow betrayed his cousin’s fatigue; his chest didn’t heave like Dante’s, his breathing only faintly labored. Out of the half dozen bouts Felix had humored him with, Dante hadn’t even come close to winning a single one. He’d managed to score a few scant points, sure, but Felix took the match every time.</em></p><p>
  <em> “One more?” he plead.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No,” Felix decided, turning away to return his foil to the rack. “Throwing yourself against a superior opponent with no improvement is a waste of time.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You would know, wouldn’t you?” Dante spat, pushing himself up quickly. </em>
</p><p><em> Felix whipped around, eyes narrowed, a hand obstinately planted on </em> <em>his hip. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he challenged.</em></p><p>
  <em> Dante balked under the confrontation. He’d said it without thinking, his mind drifting back to his father’s musings about his cousin when the subject came up. Felix was a top-notch swordsman, there was no doubt about it, and there was only one opponent he’d never managed to best.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> And he never would, because Glenn was dead.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> His childhood, based on Dante’s father’s accounts, was filled with the boy challenging his brother time and time again, just as Dante challenges him now, always met with superior skill and prowess. His father had likened it to watching him trying to break through a brick wall with his bare hands.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Nothing,” the boy backtracked quickly, his desire to best Felix just once suddenly outweighed by his desire to get out from under his cousin’s intense, piercing gaze.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “If you have something to say, say it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I don’t,” he insisted.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Felix stared for a moment longer, as if trying to decide if he wanted to press the issue or drop it. “Tch,” he scoffed, turning his back on Dante once more. “Then, next time you want to spar, at least make it a challenge.”</em>
</p><p>~OoO~<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Felix stared at his cousin for a long time, neither moving, the stillness of the day broken by Hilda’s labored breathing, tropical birds in the forest, and the sound of gunshots in the distance. “Felix,” Dante finally said, eyes darting in confusion between his cousin and the pirate on the ground behind him. “What are you doing? Let’s get out of here. I’ll take you back to the ship-”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Dante’s brow furrowed. “You don’t have to protect her,” he insisted. “We’re alone here. Those rats can’t hurt you. You can escape.”</p><p>“They’re not rats,” Felix told him firmly, not letting his sword drop. He didn’t know what kept him there. He had every reason, every ability to take Dante’s offer, to escape back with his uncle. The realization that had been building inside him for weeks crashed over him all at once, like a harsh wave breaking over the side of a ship.</p><p>He didn’t want to go.</p><p>His uncle’s trickery – practical and strategic as it undoubtedly was – was just the straw that broke the camel’s back, the final push he needed to make up his mind once and for all. He may have started his journey kidnapped and held against his will, but as he stood before his cousin, ready to fight if necessary, he was more free than he’d ever felt.</p><p>“They’re pirates,” Dante reminded him, bewildered. “They <em>kidnapped you</em>.”</p><p>“I know who they are and what they’ve done.”</p><p>“Do you?” the boy wondered. “You, more than anyone, should have every excuse to hate pirates. They killed your brother.”</p><p>Felix’s lips curled down in a deep frown. “Yes, pirates killed Glenn,” he agreed evenly, squashing down the painful memories that burned in his chest at the mention of Glenn’s untimely death, not to mention the bitter uncertainty planted in his mind by Sylvain’s brother about if he’d really known his brother as well as he thought. It wasn’t time to dwell on those things. “But not <em>these</em> pirates. They aren’t bad people.”</p><p>Dante blinked, not comprehending his words. “That captain stole his own father’s ship and valuable cargo-”</p><p>“Slaves,” Felix hissed. “Uncle Gordon left that out, didn’t he? That <em>valuable cargo</em> was a bunch of Srengi slaves. Sylvain freed them.”</p><p>“Oh…” He floundered for a moment before his eyes fell on Hilda. “And what about her? She murdered her fiance-”</p><p>“I didn’t mean to,” she groaned, voice thick with pain. “I just wanted him to <em>get off of me</em>.”</p><p>Felix had wondered if there was more to that story than his uncle had made it seem. And so it seemed there was. But there wasn’t time to worry about that at the moment.</p><p>“Stand down, Dante,” he warned. “We both know I’m a better swordsman than you are, and I don’t want to hurt you.”</p><p>“Why are you doing this?” His voice was bordering on pleading, eyes searching Felix’s desperately.</p><p>“They don’t deserve to die.”</p><p>“Don’t you want to go home?”</p><p>Felix didn’t answer at first. Saying it would make it real. But it already <em>was </em>real. “No, I don’t.” That clearly wasn’t the answer Dante had expected, and it left the boy at a loss for words. “I wasn’t happy there, Dante. I’m not the son my father wanted me to be. I’m not Glenn. I don’t expect your to understand.”</p><p>Dante’s sword fell to his side, eyes pensive as he considered Felix’s words. Maybe he understood more than Felix had expected. “What was so bad about it that you’d rather throw your lot in with a bunch of pirates?”</p><p>Felix sighed, letting his sword lower as well. “Everything I was, everything I did was just… never good enough for him. My life has never been mine to decide. What do I have to look forward to if go back? Being groomed to take over the Trading Company some day? A forced marriage to a woman I’ll never love?”</p><p>“I don’t see what’s so bad about inheriting his company. And I’m sure if you explained to your father that you don’t love your fiancee, you won’t have to marry her,” he offered, hopelessly optimistic. “There are plenty of suitable women-”</p><p>“It’s not the <em>specific woman</em> that’s the problem,” Felix explained delicately, but was disheartened when the confusion on Dante’s face told him that he didn’t understand what his cousin was trying to say. “He could find a hundred suitable women for me to marry, and it wouldn’t change anything.”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>Hilda, whose presence he’d almost forgotten, seemed to be annoyed by Dante’s obliviousness. “For the Goddess’s sake,” she huffed, voice still strained, “he fancies men, kid.”</p><p>“Thanks, Hilda,” Felix sighed.</p><p>Dante blinked in confusion. “You do?”</p><p>“Yeah, I do.”</p><p>“That… that’s an option?”</p><p>Despite himself, Felix’s lip curled up at his cousin’s naivete. “Not if you ask my father.” Felix shook his head. “That’s actually why we’re here in the first place. He found out that I had been fooling around with a stable hand and sent me on <em>the Aegis</em> as punishment. He seems to think that if I see how disgusting men are, it might <em>change</em> something.”</p><p>“And do you… fancy one of the pirates?” Felix nodded, letting Dante piece it together himself. “The captain,” he realized a moment later.</p><p>“We knew each other as boys,” he explained. “We met when we took our pilgrimages to Garreg Mach when I was eight. He was my first childhood… let’s say, infatuation.” Felix glanced in the direction where he’d left the pirates fighting. “And now, he could be dying at your father’s hands, for all I know.”</p><p>There was a new resolve in Dante’s eyes. “Then you should go help him. Father won’t risk hurting you if you fight with the pirates.”</p><p>Felix glanced back at Hilda. “Can I trust you to keep her safe?” He nodded dutifully. “Thank you, Dante. I owe you.”</p><p>Dante smiled. “Go.”</p><p>With no further fanfare, Hilda’s sword in hand, Felix ran back the way he’d come.</p><p> </p><p>~OoO~</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain gritted his teeth as he parried a blow aimed at his head. The clanging of steel reverberated though his body when their swords collided. The man was nearly as big as Raphael, with the strength to match, and Sylvain’s arm trembled with the strain of trying to keep the razor-sharp edge of his sword as far from his face as possible. With a mighty push, he forced the man back a half-step, giving him just enough time to duck away, relying on his slimmer frame being more agile than his opponent’s bulk.</p><p>Around him, the shouts and clatters and gunshots sounded like they were a mile away, his focus solely on not meeting a grisly fate. Bodies hit the floor in the corners of his vision, his crew and their opponents alike, blood seeping into rotten floorboards and turning the blanket of dust into a slick, macabre film under his boots.</p><p>Was Hilda okay? Was Felix? The last thing he’d seen after Felix rushed out with his first mate in his arms and Sylvain was forced take up arms against the Fraldarius Trading Company men, was the younger boy who looked a great deal like Felix running after him at Felix’s uncle’s command. Surely Felix would be alright, his… what, cousin? Surely his cousin wouldn’t hurt him. No, it was Hilda who he was worried about, shot and bleeding.</p><p>Sylvain’s foot slipped in the muck, and he went reeling back. The air was knocked from his lungs when the pommel of his opponent’s sword collided with his unguarded belly. He could feel himself falling as if in slow-motion, arms flailing uselessly, sword wrenched free from his grip as he hit the ground so hard it seemed to rattle his eyes inside his skull. It skidded out of reach across the floor.</p><p>He could hear Lorenz shouting out from the other side of the room, but he was too busy fighting his own battle to help. The beast of a man loomed over him, grinning triumphantly as he pressed the point of his sword to the soft flesh of Sylvain’s throat. Sylvain swallowed hard, the unforgiving steel digging in hard enough he could feel the skin break under it, a hot, sticky bead of blood welling up around it.</p><p>Sylvain tried not to give much thought to how he would ultimately meet his demise, out of principal more than out of fear of his own mortality. Being a pirate, even one adverse to violence, carried with it a lot of risks. Threat from other pirates, merchant ships fighting back when boarded, the navies of the various nations whose waters he plundered in, random assholes in shady ports looking for an easy score. None of those dangers ever really concerned him.</p><p>But there he was, looking into the cruel and slightly manic eyes of death, falling headlong into a demise of his own making. He’d impulsively decided to kidnap and ransom off a rich kid, and here were the consequences. He and his crew dying at the vengeful hands of the people who came to rescue of his poor little victim.</p><p>He didn’t waste his breath begging for his life.</p><p>Not because he was too proud, but because he knew it wouldn’t work. The man over him seemed to be reveling in the adrenaline rush that came with getting ready to slice the throat of a pirate, a carnage he likely very seldom got to indulge in. Sylvain knew the look in his eyes, the look of a cat toying with a helpless little mouse, taking its time to torture it and draw out its suffering as long as possible, just to watch it squirm.</p><p>It was very similar to the look in Miklan’s eyes when he tormented Sylvain as a child.</p><p>The tip of the sword traced down, drawing a pained hiss from Sylvain as it sliced a thin line through the skin over his collar bone. The point came to rest over his heart. All the man would have to do is push down – he was certainly strong enough it would be no difficult feat – and Sylvain would soon be very, very dead.</p><p>It took a moment for Sylvain’s fear-addled brain to understand what happened.</p><p>Hot blood rained down on him from above as a sword sprouted through the man’s chest. The man stared down at the blood-soaked steel protruding from him in confusion, even as yet more blood bubbled from his lips. The sword retreated with a wet <em>shiiick</em> and the man staggered a few steps before toppling over to the floor, if not dead, then dying.</p><p>It was Felix that was standing over him, then, painted in a spray of the man’s blood like some gory, avenging angle.</p><p>He offered his hand down to Sylvain, and the pirate took it numbly, very little help in getting back to his own feet. He stared between the dead – definitely dead now – man and Felix, his jaw set into a hard line, eyes dark and determined.</p><p>“You… killed him,” Sylvain muttered, coming back to himself enough to stoop down to collect his dropped sword. He stared at Felix in awe, the battle around him all but forgotten. “You saved my life.”</p><p>“Thank me later,” Felix muttered, eyes scanning for threats, already back in a defensive stance.</p><p>“Is Hilda…?”</p><p>“She’s safe.” Relief washed over Sylvain. He returned his attention back to the fighting.</p><p>Or, rather, the lack thereof. Slowly, the clanging of swords started to die down as people – men on both sides – noticed Felix’s return. Or, more accurately, noticed his sword dripping in blood and the dead man at his feet.</p><p>Pirates stared in confusion that their captive had just rescued his captor.</p><p>His rescuers stared in confusion at the same fact.</p><p>“Felix,” his uncle boomed, voice full of anger and confusion, “what is the meaning of this?” Men scattered out of his way as he stormed toward his nephew. “You killed one of our own men.”</p><p>“He was going to kill Sylvain,” Felix protested, not balking under his uncle’s rage.</p><p>“<em>Sylvain</em>?” he spat, beet-red face right in Felix’s. “You mean the rat who kidnapped you? Who cares if these rabid dogs get what they deserve?”</p><p>“I care.” The fierceness of Felix’s voice was enough to make Sylvain’s heart swell.</p><p>A slap rang out loud and clear through the silent room. Felix hardly flinched, and it took every ounce of self-control Sylvain could muster to keep himself from striking the man down right then and there. But this was Felix’s fight.</p><p>“You would throw your lot in with them?” his uncle growled. “I won’t allow it.”</p><p>“It’s not your choice to make, Uncle. Now, let us leave in peace. We don’t want to hurt anyone else.”</p><p>“You’re not going anywhere, boy,” the man said through clenched teeth. “You’re going to behave and return to Fraldarius, or I will drag you there in chains. <em>That</em> is your choice to make.”</p><p>Felix’s hand tightened on his sword, still dripping crimson, and he leveled it with his uncle’s chest. “You’re going to have to make me.”</p><p>The two raven-haired men stared at each other, time stretching endlessly around them, as if they were locked in a fierce battle of wills inside their very minds. Finally, his uncle’s shoulders dropped, and with a huff, he sheathed his own sword. “You’ve always been such a petulant, ungrateful brat,” he sneered, “ever since Glenn’s death. Do what you want. If you want to play pirate, go on, have your fun. You’ll be crawling back to Fraldarius soon enough, begging for your father’s forgiveness.”</p><p>“Don’t count on it,” Felix scoffed. “And don’t think about following us.”</p><p>The man snorted. “And waste any more of my time with you?”</p><p>And with that, the pirates began their uneasy retreat, gathering up their dead and wounded with a watchful eye and fleeing. Sylvain followed Felix as they made a detour to where he’d left Hilda, who was trying to chat through her pain to Felix’s cousin, the boy uncomfortable but trying very hard to be polite.</p><p>“Thank you, Dante,” Felix said as Sylvain hefted Hilda up. “You should get back to your father.” Felix held out his hand for his cousin to shake.</p><p>The boy smiled, grabbing Felix’s hand, but yanking him in for a hug, surprising a small yelp from the older boy that Sylvain couldn’t help but find incredibly endearing. Reluctantly, Felix hugged him back, awkwardly patting him on the shoulder for a moment before shoving away. “I’ll see you around, Felix. After all,” he added with a wink, “I still owe you a spar that’s not a waste of your time.”</p><p>A small puff of laughter escaped Felix’s lips at that, genuine and unguarded. “We’ll see about that.”</p><p>As they made their way back through the forest toward the ship still hidden in the secret cove across the island, Felix kept a protective arm around Sylvain’s waist.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW: some implications of human trafficking. The details are intentionally not given, however.</p><p>The epilogue is meant to be reminiscent of the game's paired ending cards, but longer. I'm not sure how well I did on that, but that was the idea.</p><p>Finally, FINALLY, the sex lol. Sorry, it took me forever to get here. If you're still reading this, OP, you've got the patience of a saint. This was, however, really fun to write, and is my most read (and top 3 kudosed) story, so that's fun! Thanks everyone who's been reading all this time!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Katra shrank behind them as they sailed further into Srengi waters, headed where no ship bearing Faerghus colors would dare follow, even if they wanted to. The sun was starting to set, painting the lightly rolling waves in yellows and reds and oranges as it dipped ever closer to the horizon. Felix watched, leaning against the railing, for the first time really appreciating the spray of the sea on his face and the breath of the breeze on his neck.</p><p>Hilda and Sylvain disappeared below deck almost as soon as they returned to the ship, after Sylvain barked a few hasty orders to the very confused crew that had remained aboard and left Lorenz in charge for the foreseeable future. Linhardt moved the fastest Felix had ever seen him when he realized there were injured to be tended. Aside from Ashe who he’d insisted stay to help him, everyone had been ushered above deck and out of his way while he worked.</p><p>That had been hours ago.</p><p>Lorenz came to a stop next to Felix, eyes tracking out over the boundless sea, and for a long moment, neither spoke. “I have, perhaps, not been the most… welcoming of you, Felix,” Lorenz said stiffly, long, delicate fingers drumming lightly on the railing. Felix waited for him to continue, not quite sure what he was getting at. Felix had been a captive, there was only so ‘welcoming’ one could be. Sure, the guy was sometimes curt or snippy, but Felix had really never given it much thought. “I wanted to thank you. Without you, Sylvain and Hilda, and many, many others, might be dead right now, if you hadn’t decided to help us.”</p><p>“It was only right,” he dismissed, feeling just the slightest bit awkward at the praise.</p><p>Lorenz laughed, sharp and just a little bitter. “I suppose you might say I find it rather difficult wrapping my head around the idea that a captive might be inclined to help their captor.” His eyes were a million miles away. “Let alone decide to remain with them of their own volition.”</p><p>Felix glanced over at the purple-haired man, mind falling back to his uncle’s words from before. What the man had said about Hilda had been – partially – true. Could the same be said about Lorenz? Before he could make his mind up to ask, Lorenz caught him looking, eyebrow arched. He sighed, a sad, knowing smile curling on his lips. “Just to clear the air,” he mused, “you’re uncle wasn’t lying, nor mistaken… about what he said.”</p><p>“You don’t have to tell me,” Felix said quickly, noting the way the man’s fingers curled tightly around the rail.</p><p>“It’s… quite alright,” he sighed. “Gloucester is a very small island, and its resources are limited as a result. The island relies a lot on trade to sustain its sizable population. My father, Count Gloucester, is a very… ambitious man. He didn’t just want Gloucester to see its needs met, he wanted it to thrive. This involved borrowing a lot of money from… some unsavory sources, at times. Unfortunately, a particularly dry summer led to poor crop yield, which led to famine. Father was forced to borrow more than he was able to repay, and his creditors were not very patient people.</p><p>“They came to collect what they were owed,” he explained, trying very hard to keep his voice schooled into something calm and unaffected, but Felix could hear the thick emotion barely contained underneath. “My father didn’t have the means to repay them, of course. And, as I said, some of these people were most disagreeable. One, in particular. Since my father couldn’t pay what he owed with anything of monetary value, this man insisted he pay another way.”</p><p>“With you,” Felix guessed when he fell silent.</p><p>“Not exactly,” he corrected, pausing for a second, eyes closed. “He first demanded my sister, Eliza, as repayment.” Felix’s stomach twisted into knots. “I, of course, would not let that stand. I offered myself in her stead, and he found this to be a suitable exchange.” His head bowed. “I… will not get into the details of my time with this man, but… I remained with him for nearly three years before my father’s debt was repaid.”</p><p>Felix knew there was nothing he could say that wouldn’t feel hollow, so he said nothing. “Despite that,” Lorenz continued, “he would not let me leave, insisting that our deal had no bearing on if my father’s debt was repaid or not.”</p><p>“So you killed him.”</p><p>“It was… not exactly my intent,” he muttered. “But, yes. I killed him.” He tucked back a loose stand of his hair behind his ear. “At that point, my father’s debt was repaid, and his family had no reason to take action against mine. Their conflict was with me. As such, I was unable to return home. I did my best to keep a low profile after that, moving from island to island, doing what I could to support myself. After a few months, I ended up meeting Sylvain on Bergliez. That was two years ago.”</p><p>“Sylvain and his collection of nobles,” Felix mused, hoping to lighten the mood some.</p><p>Lorenz laughed. “Indeed. He’s got a rather… peculiar effect on people, something akin to a magnetism that just draws people to him. He, Hilda, and I are not the only nobles aboard, you know.” Felix arched an eyebrow. “Linhardt is from House Hevring, and Caspar is from House Bergliez. And, now, I suppose, we have also got a Fraldarius.”</p><p>Felix stared out over the horizon again, mind buzzing with what he’d learned. “Thank you for telling me,” he mutters.</p><p>Lorenz straightened. “I thought it better to know the truth from me than the… half-truths your uncle believes.”</p><p>Half-truths. “Like Hilda,” he didn’t realize he said aloud until he notices the odd look Lorenz was giving him. “It… came up after I got her away. Kinda, anyway.”</p><p>“Well, that’s not my story to tell,” he sighed.</p><p>“I know. Maybe I’ll ask her once she’s feeling better.”</p><p>Lorenz nodded slowly, and Felix got the impression he wasn’t paying much attention any more. His gaze had fallen on a group of crewmates struggling with something near the bow. The quartermaster excused himself, heading off to do the job appointed to him.</p><p>Leaving Felix to his thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>~OoO~</p><p> </p><p>It was dark by the time Sylvain went above deck. He’d stayed patiently while Linhardt tended to all of his patients, shrugging off aid until everyone else was taken care of. He stayed by Hilda’s side, letting her squeeze the ever-living fuck out of his hand as she gritted her teeth through the pain of Linhardt digging the bullet out of her leg with a pair of alcohol-disinfected tweezers. Eventually, once the wound was cleaned, stitched, and bandaged, Linhardt ordered Sylvain to take her back to the quarters she shared with Lorenz and put her to bed. He stayed until she was snoring loudly, out cold.</p><p>Only once all of his other crew members were treated did he allow Linhardt to look at his own wound. It wasn’t deep, though it stung like a bitch when he cleaned it with a whiskey-soaked rag and bound it with clean bandages before sending him on his way, presumably so the perpetually tired doctor could take a nap now that he was finished.</p><p>Felix was standing up on the quarterdeck near the stern, watching the last rays of sunlight drown in the darkening sea. He sidled up next to him without a word. In the dying light, he could just make out the flush that colored his cheeks when Felix noticed his arrival.</p><p>“How’s Hilda?” he wondered.</p><p>“Fast asleep, and doing fine,” he assured him. “She’ll need some bed rest to make up for the blood-loss, and she’ll have to spend some time staying off her leg, but she won’t lose it, so I’d say that’s as good as we can hope for.”</p><p>“Oh, she’ll just hate bed rest,” Felix snorted, rolling his eyes.</p><p>Sylvain smiled at him, admiring the way the dusky, orange light played over his cheekbones, melted in his amber eyes. “Lin said it might have been a very different story if you didn’t think to tourniquet her leg.”</p><p>His flush deepened. “Just something I remembered from my lessons back home. Father insisted Glenn and I learn a little about medicine-”</p><p>“Because it’s necessary for a gentleman to be well-versed in a variety of subjects?” Sylvain guessed.</p><p>“More or less.”</p><p>“Yeah, my father liked to give Miklan and I the same spiel.” He laughed, running a hand through his hair. “I guess it payed off, in this case.”</p><p>“Yeah…”</p><p>They lapsed into a peaceful silence, but the question burning on Sylvain’s tongue wouldn’t let it last more than a couple minutes. “So? What now?”</p><p>Felix glanced over. “What do you mean?” Even though he already knew what Sylvain meant.</p><p>He put his hand over Felix’s, reveling in the warmth of it. Felix didn’t pull away. “If you want us to take you somewhere, we can do that. Wherever you’d like to go. If that's what you want.”</p><p>Felix fixed him with a hard look. “Oh, you’re kicking me off your ship now?” It was a teasing question. He leaned in closer to Sylvain, angling his body toward the captain, one elbow leaning against the railing. So close, Sylvain could feel his warm breath.</p><p>Sylvain smirked, turning to meet him. “I suppose, if you wanted to stay, we could find room for you…”</p><p>“How generous.”</p><p>“There’s always a couple extra hammocks below deck, with the crew.” Felix’s nose crinkled in distaste. “They’re a pretty welcoming bunch.”</p><p>“Mm, I think you can do better than that.”</p><p>“The cot’s still in my cabin…” he mused.</p><p>“I think I’d rather have your bed.”</p><p>Sylvain laughed, leaning in even closer, to the point they’re practically nose-to-nose. “And where am I supposed to sleep, then?”</p><p>“The cot’s still in your cabin.”</p><p>Sylvain gave him a playful nudge, drawing a light laugh from Felix’s lips. “Sorry, but you’re not kicking me out of my bed.”</p><p>Felix pretended to consider that. “Then… I <em>suppose</em> we could share.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Felix nodded earnestly. “You’ll really stay?”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>Unable to help himself, Sylvain closed the remaining space between them, claiming Felix’s lips with his own. Surprisingly, Felix didn’t shrink away, embarrassed by the possibility of eyes on them. On the contrary, he wound his arms around Sylvain’s neck, fingers tangling into his hair as he leaned into the kiss.</p><p>Felix yelped indignantly as Sylvain scooped him up into his arms, wincing a little as it tugged on his wound. The younger man hid his face in the crook of Sylvain’s neck. “What do you think you’re doing?” he huffed.</p><p>“Well, I <em>thought</em> I was taking you back to our cabin. If you want to, that is.”</p><p>Felix rolled his eyes. “And why does that involve carrying me?” He didn’t protest as Sylvain started walking, just grouching for the sake of grouching. “I can walk perfectly well.”</p><p>“I’m trying to be suave and romantic.”</p><p>“People can see us…” Ah, there it was. The shy, easily flustered side.</p><p>Sylvain kissed the top of his head softly. “You might want to get used to that, kitten,” he teased. “Especially since they’ll probably be able to hear-”</p><p>Felix groaned. “There are no secrets on a pirate ship, I know.”</p><p>They reached Sylvain’s – their – cabin a moment later, and Sylvain shut the door behind him with his foot, not wasting a second in laying Felix down on his – <em>their</em> – bed. Felix melted into his touches.</p><p>Though Sylvain had dedicated a lot of time already to mapping each creamy expanse of skin that made up Felix’s upper half, he reveled in doing it again, now that he had all the time in the world to do so. He kissed and stroked and admired every bit of skin as he slowly bared Felix. Their shirts fell gracelessly over the edge of the bed.</p><p>Just as he’d seen him plenty of times before, Felix was beautiful laid out under Sylvain, dark hair fanned over the pillow, eyes hooded and hazy with lust. Sylvain took a moment to sit back and admire him, lightly skimming his fingers down his sides, through the valleys of his abs, teasing at his nipples…</p><p>When he ran his hand over the bulge in Felix’s trousers, the man didn’t stop him. He arched into Sylvain’s touch, a light moan escaping his lips. Sylvain took his time unlacing Felix’s trousers, took his time pulling them down his muscular thighs, tossing them on the floor with their shirts. Felix was completely bare before him, now. His own trousers joined the pile shortly thereafter.</p><p>Sylvain pressed himself back over Felix, claiming his lips, letting their bodies find a rhythm against each other. Until a shock of pain set Sylvain reeling with a gasp as his movements pulled at his wound. He sat back, wincing. Felix pushed himself up, brows drawn with concern.</p><p>“Maybe we should wait until you’re better.”</p><p>“I’m fine,” he insisted. “Just… Here.” Very careful not to stretch too much, he pushed the pillows against the headboard and flipped their positions, propping himself up against the pillows with Felix straddling his legs. “There, this should be fine.” He tucked a loose strand of Felix’s hair behind his ear and flashed him a grin. “You’ll just have to do all the work.”</p><p>“Try not to sound too heartbroken about it,” Felix snorted, but he didn’t protest.</p><p>From this angle, Felix could grind his hips against Sylvain’s, his eyes fluttering at the friction, lips parting in a silent moan. He nuzzled into the crook of Sylvain’s neck, sucking lightly at the skin there. Sylvain kneaded the plump flesh of his ass, teasing at his hole with a tentative finger. Felix keened.</p><p>“Are you sure this is what you want?” Sylvain muttered in his ear, reaching for a vial of oil among his things on the shelves that lined the wall.</p><p>Felix pulled back, meeting his eyes evenly. “Yes.”</p><p>Sylvain diligently coated his fingers in oil, letting it warm before moving to trace around Felix’s hole. The younger man gasped before biting his lip. When Sylvain slowly pushed the first finger in, Felix’s head fell against his shoulder. “Alright?”</p><p>“Yeah,” he breathed. “It’s just… been a while. Keep going.” Sylvain obliged, pumping his finger in and out slowly, taking his time to acclimate Felix to the stretch of it. One finger became two, then three. By that point, Felix was moaning openly, grinding down against Sylvain’s hand as he muttered a chorus of, “more.” More what, Sylvain wasn’t sure. Stretch? Friction? Both?</p><p>The raven-haired man whined when Sylvain slipped his fingers out, only somewhat placated by the soft kisses Sylvain lavished on him in apology. He quickly slicked his cock, readying it for Felix to take.</p><p>Felix was all too eager, lining himself up over it once Sylvain was done. He braced his hands against Sylvain’s shoulder as he shifted his hips. The tip pressed to his stretched hole. There was a look of intent focus on Felix’s face, brow furrowed, lip caught between his teeth. Slowly, he lowered himself down, groaning as the girthy tip breached his tight ring of muscle.</p><p>He didn’t stop until Sylvain was fully sheathed inside.</p><p>His hole fluttered around Sylvain’s cock, taking a moment to adjust to the stretch of it. Sylvain leaned back and admired the view, smoothing his hand down Felix’s back and over the swell of his ass. Felix was flushed from the tips of his ears down his chest. His cock was hard and leaking between their bodies, and the amber irises of his eyes were nearly swallowed black by his pupils. Sylvain couldn’t help but tease at the seam where their bodies joined, drawing a low groan from Felix.</p><p>Slowly, he started moving, lifting himself up Sylvain’s shaft until only the head remained, then swiftly taking him down the base again. He set a steady rhythm, fucking himself on Sylvain’s cock with his head thrown back. His blunt nails dug into Sylvain’s shoulders, pain mixing exquisitely with the pleasure of feeling Felix’s tight, hot hole swallow him up.</p><p>“That’s it, baby,” Sylvain sighed, letting his eyes droop closed for a moment. “Taking me so well. Doing such a good job.”</p><p>“Syl...”</p><p>Felix shifted his hips, just a little, and moaned loudly as the new angle drove Sylvain’s cock against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside him. His legs trembled as he continued riding his cock. He buried his face in the crook of Sylvain’s neck, breath hot against his skin as he continued to moan sweetly.</p><p>Sylvain wrapped a hand around his shaft, pumping in time with Felix’s motions. The younger man’s moans were beginning to border on sobs, his movements growing erratic as he neared the edge. “Are you close, sweetheart?”</p><p>“So close,” he breathed.</p><p>Sylvain redoubled his efforts, pumping Felix even faster. “Cum for me, beautiful.” His whole body shuddered as he did so, hot spurts of his seed spilling over Sylvain’s hand and across his stomach. His hole spasmed sweetly, and Sylvain bucked his hips up into his tight heat, managing just a few pumps before spending deep inside of him.</p><p>Felix melted against him, heedless of the sticky mess he’d made of them, panting and fucked out. His legs still trembled. Sylvain’s cock had softened inside of him by the time the captain gently lifted him off, rolling him over to rest against the pile of pillows. Sylvain stood, stopped for a second as Felix’s hand latched around his wrist.</p><p>“You’re hurt,” Felix protested sleepily. “You should be the one resting.” Sylvain laughed, bending over to press a kiss to his forehead.</p><p>“It’s just a cut,” he reminded him. “I’m perfectly fine to get up and get a cloth out of the washbasin. Besides, you’re the one who did all the work, yeah?” Felix smiled a dopey, sleepy smile and let Sylvain go.</p><p>The redhead returned a moment later to clean his exhausted lover up, before doing the same himself and crawling back into bed. Careful of his cut, he pulled Felix against his chest, the younger man snuggling up to him eagerly. An easy, fond silence fell over them, both content to just bask for a while. Felix fell asleep in his arms for what Sylvain hoped was the first of many, many, many times.</p><p>There were no promises about what the future might hold, but for one night, Sylvain was content to think things were just going to be okay.</p><p> </p><p>Epilogue</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Eighteen months.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> It took eighteen months for Felix to turn the most moral, non-violent pirate ship in the Fódlan archipelago into an honest, legal trading charter, using the skills and education his father had given him. Sylvain had been more than happy to make the switch. Up until that point, however, he never thought there had been an option, considering he was wanted for a laundry list of crimes that would have surely seen him to the gallows if he was caught.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Fortunately, the pirate captain’s new lover had friends in high places.</em>
</p><p><em> With a letter and a meeting, Captain Sylvain Guatier and the crew of </em>Lady Ruin<em> were pardoned of all crimes under authority of the king. With</em> Lady Ruin<em> as the flagship of a new royal trading fleet, the king was able to begin an initiative – </em><em>in part inspired by his loyal vassal, Dedue –</em><em> to open trade between Faerghus and Duscur, the first time since the Tragedy that trade negotiations between the nations </em><em>have taken place.</em></p><p>
  <em> Soon, this business expanded to include trade with many of the nations beyond Fódlan, and The Gautier/Fraldairus Royal Trading Company would go on to be one of the most profitable in Fódlan.</em>
</p><p><em> After two years at each other’s side, Felix and Sylvain were wed on Garreg Mach, where they first met, their union ordained by the archbishop herself. Despite Felix’s attempts at inviting his father, the man did not attend their wedding. Their wedding was, however, attended by (among others) the entire crew of </em>Lady Ruin<em>, the king himself, Felix's cousin Dante, and his ex-fiancée Annette – who found herself quite taken by a sweet, charming tavern keeper who’d been invited by Sylvain.</em></p><p>
  <em> Despite their success and newfound wealth with the trading company, Sylvain and Felix continue to prefer a life at sea.</em>
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